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Julian at the Shrine of 


Daphne. 

See page 193. 





QUADRATUS. 


J 


A TALE OF THE WORLD IN THE CHURCH. 



By EMMA LESLIE, 

Aiithok of “Glaucia,” “Flavia,” eto., eto. 


THREE ILLUSTRATIONS. 


I ' 

NEW YORK: 

NELSON & PHILLIPS. 

CINCINNATI: HITCHCOCK & WALDEN. 


SUNDAY-SCHOOL DKPAKTMENT. 




Entered according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1875, by 
NELSON & PHILLIPS, 

in the Oflice of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 


INTRODUCTION. 


I T has been suggested that in place of a Preface 
to this third volume of the Stories on Church 
History a short Chronological Table should be 
added, linking them together, and back to the life- 
time of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is of neces- 
sity short, and incomplete in its general features, 
as the design of this work is to give slight sketches 
of Church History rather than historical accounts 
of events outside its immediate concern. 

It is generally understood that our Lord’s birth 
took plac6 during the fourth year before the com- 
mon account or reckoning called Anno Do^nini^ 
and I have of course followed the general rule in 
compiling this table of events. 


Chronological Table of Events in the Early Church. ^ 

Jesus Christ Baptized 26 

John Baptist cast into Prison 30 

Jesus Christ Crucified 33 

St. Paul Converted 35 

The Apostle James Murdered 42 

St. Paul Preaches at Athens 52 

St. Paul Preaches at Ephesus 55 

St. Paul sent in bonds to Rome 62 

Great Fire at Rome — First Persecution of Christians 64 

St. Paul put to Death 68 

Titus destroys the Temple of Jerusalem 70 

Second Persecution under Domitian 95 


6 


Introduction. 


A. D. 

St. John’s Vision or Revelation in the Isle of Patmos. ... 96 

St. John returns to Ephesus 97 

Third Persecution under Trajan 107 

Fourth Persecution under Adrian 118 

Justin Martyr writes his First Apology for the Christians. 139 

Persecution under Marcus Aurelius 163 

Martyrdom of Poly carp 166 

Fifth Persecution under Severus 202 

Romans agree to pay Tribute to the Goths 222 

Origen introduces Christianity into Arabia ' 230 

Sixth Persecution under Maximin 238 

Seventh Persecution under Decius 250 

Christianity extends itself in Gaul, Germany, and Scotland 252 

Eighth Persecution under Valerian 257 

Temple of Diana at Ephesus Burned 260 

Ninth Persecution under Aurelian 272 

Tenth Persecution under Diocletian 303 

Constantine’s Edict ending the Persecutions published. 

The Cross chosen as the Standard of Rome 313 

Punishment of the Cross abolished ! 315 

Sunday appointed to be observed as the Christian Sabbath 321 

Constantine becomes sole Emperor 323 

First General Council of Bishops at Nicea 325 

Athanasius elected Bishop of Alexandria 327 

The seat of Empire transferred from Rome to Byzantium, 

renamed Constantinople 328 

Heathen Temples demolished 331 

Death of Constantine, the first Christian Emperor of Rome 337 

Constantine Junior killed 340 

John Chrysostom born 347 

Constans killed 350 

St. Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, born 353 

Constantins, the last Son of Constantine the Great, killed 361 
Georgius, Bishop of Alexandria — “ St. George of Merrie 

England” 362 

Julian attempts to rebuild the Temple of Jerusalem 363 

The Roman Empire divided into East and West 364 


COl^TENTS. 


Chapter 

I. Alexandria 

II. Leaven 

III. Brother and Sister 

IV. The Riot 

V. A Fruitless Search 

VI. At Nicea 

VII. The First Council 

V[II. The Prefect of Carthage 

IX. Something New 

X. The Parting 

XI. John Chrysostom 

XII. Beyond the Gates 

XIII. A Day in Antioch 

XIV. The Shrine of Daphne 

^V. The Victory of the Vanquished, 

XVI. Monica and her Son 

XVII. The Letter 

XVIII. Suspense 

XIX. The Journey 

XX. The Meeting of Friends 

XXI. Athanasius 

XXII. Conclusion 


Pagb 

9 

22 

35 

48 

63 

77 

90 

103 

116 

13T 

145 

159 

173 

186 

199 

217 

231 

245 

257 

270 

283 

295 


aiions. ' 

Pack 

Julian at the Shrine of Daphne 2 

Placidia Carried Off by the Jewish Rioters ... 53 

Placidia Before the Prefect of Carthage 117 




I 


QUADRATUS. 


CHAPTER I. 

ALEXANDRIA. 

T he morning light was brightening the 
waves of the blue Mediterranean as they 
rolled into the spacious harbor of Alexandria, 
bearing on their crests a small flotilla of impe- 
rial galleys. They had been seen approaching, 
and now that the harbor was gained a loud 
cheer rang from the busy quays, and the count- 
less masts were each decorated with a flag, while 
high above all others — higher than the proud 
Roman eagles — was hoisted the emperor’s new 
ensign of the cross ; for times had greatly 
changed, and the struggling infant Church of 
Christ, no longer persecuted, was now patron- 
ized by the reigning emperor, Constantine. 

The imperial messenger just arrived in the 
harbor was the court preacher, Hosius, Bishop 
of Cordova, and he bore letters from Constan- 
tine himself to Alexander, the aged primate or 


lo Qoadratus. 

pope — he was the first to assume this title — of 
Alexandria, for this proud city vied with Rome 
itself in splendor and importance. There lay 
her riches in countless heaps, exposed to the 
rainless air — wheat waiting for shipment to 
Rome and Byzantium, and bales of merchandise 
crowding every quay, while in every nook and 
corner where customers were likely to be found 
sat a negro behind a pile of fruit fresh from the 
fruit-boats close at hand. “Fresh water-mel- 
ons ! fresh figs !” cried one; while his neighbor 
sat lazily chewing the papyrus cane, and watch- 
ing the approach of the splendid galleys. 

“ Times are changed since our late emperor, 
Diocletian, resigned the purple!” exclaimed an 
old man who likewise stood watching the gayly 
decorated vessels as they drew near. 

“ Yes, times are changed, thank God ! for we 
can worship him in peace without being carried 
before the prefect to have an eye put out or be 
maimed for life as the penalty.” 

“ Yes, ye Christian dogs have it all your own 
way now. I’ve a great mind to turn Christian 
myself, for it is the only way to get on in the 
world,” said the old man, with a half-drawn sigh 
for the good old times now so lately passed 
away. 

The next minute there was another shout of 


Alexandria, 


II 


welcome from the various quays, and some one 
exclaimed, “ The emperor hath sent some of his 
new guards with the bishop ! ” 

“ New guards, indeed ! as if these guards of 
the labarum could be more honorable than the 
old pretorians,” said another contemptuously. 

The news that some of the famous fifty, 
whose duty it was to guard the sacred ensign, 
of the cross, had been sent on this errand to 
their patriarch seemed to please many, as add- 
ing not only to his but their importance. Their 
self-congratulations, however, in this respect 
were soon ended, for their deacon, Athanasius, 
who had come to represent the aged bishop and 
receive Hosius with all due honor and courtesy, 
quietly assured some that only one member of 
this famous guard had come, and he was on a 
visit to friends and relatives here in the city. 

In spite, however, of this assurance the young 
man found himself the center of observation 
when he stepped ashore, for on cuirass and 
helmet shone this ensign of the cross in purest 
gold, and the Alexandrians had not yet become 
so accustomed to this former sign of shame and 
ignominy as to look upon it altogether unmoved. 
Never before, perhaps, had a guard of the la- 
barum been seen in the metropolis of Egypt, 
and so the crowd might be excused for following 


12 


Quadratus. 


the long line of ecclesiastics through the streets 
to the house of their patriarch, Alexander. 

It was several years since the young guard 
had visited his native city, and as he looked 
round on the familiar scene — at the splendid 
esplanade and the Gate of the Moon by which 
they entered the city — at the Cesareum and 
the world-renowned obelisks before it, one of 
which is still known as Cleopatra’s needle, and 
thought of the changes a few years had wrought 
not only in Alexandria but in all the world, his 
heart swelled with joy and thankfulness, for 
surely the Redeemer’s kingdom must prosper, 
and all would soon bow to his scepter and own 
his name. 

But these reflections were put aside by the 
bustle and crowd of palanquins, ‘curricles, and 
laden asses all pushing their way up this, the 
main street, and frequently stopped the long 
procession of monks and presbyters who had 
come out to meet and conduct the emperor’s 
messenger to their bishop. 

When the ceremony of reception was over, 
and the young guard at liberty to leave and 
seek his own family, he was joined by his old 
friend, Athanasius. They had been brought 
up together under Alexander, but their paths 
in life had widely diverged since they sat 


Alexandria. 


13 


together learning the use of the stylus ; but 
the cause of the Master was still dear to the 
heart of each, although they could not see eye 
to eye. 

“ Thou art a soldier of the cross, but — ” 

Nay, but thou too art a soldier of the cross 
if I mistake not, Athanasius ; only thy weapon 
is not a sword of steel,” interrupted his friend. 

“True, Quadratus, but I would fain live in 
such peace as our holy hermit, Anthony. Only 
such men as Arius force us to use the Word 
of God as a weapon as well as a support and 
shield and the young deacon sighed as he 
thought of the peace of the desert, where he 
had spent days and nights in prayer and medi- 
tation with Anthony, without the interruption 
of a human face except that of a fellow-hermit. 

“There hath been a sharp contest with this 
same Arius. I have heard somewhat of it, but 
would fain hear the whole matter from thee. 
Is it simply a question of learned disquisition, or 
is it one of great importance, Athanasius V' 

“ Great importance 1 ” repeated the deacon, 
“Thou hast heard very little not to know that 
the peace, the well-being of the whole Church 
Catholic i§ imperiled by this Arianism ; for do 
we not believe above all else that there is one 
God ? and was it not for this denial of the being 


14 Quadratus. 

gods many and lords many that our fathers 
suffered and died ? ” 

“ And Arius, thy deacon, would teach that 
there is more than one God ? ” asked Quad- 
ratus. 

“ Nay, Arius doth not teach this directly, 
but his doctrine must lead to this ; and, more- 
over, it denies the divinity of our Lord Christ,’' 
said Athanasius. “ But let me not hinder thee 
with the details of this now, for thou art anx- 
iously expected at home. I saw thy mother 
yesterday, and she could talk of nothing but 
her soldier-son.” 

“ Wilt thou not walk home with me ^ Thou 
wilt be welcome, Athanasius, as thou knowest.” 

But the deacon shook his head. “ There is 
much sickness in Alexandria juk now, and I 
must see that none lack either the bread that 
perisheth, or that which is able to save the soul 
alive. But I will see thee again shortly, and 
thou shalt tell me the news of the world beyond 
the great sea. Hasten homeward now, for I 
can see thou art longing for thy mother’s em- 
brace ; ” and with a pleasant smile Athanasius 
turned toward the poorer quarter of the town, 
while Quadratus took his way past the now half- 
deserted temple of Neptune toward his home, 
where his widowed mother was awaiting him. 


Alexandria. 


15 

“ My son ! my Quadratus ! ” were the next 
words addressed to him ; and when his mother 
had kissed his bronzed cheek she pressed her 
lips reverently upon the golden cross that 
gleamed on his breast and whispered, “I am 
blessed above women, for one son is a soldier of 
the cross and the other a holy monk, and yet — 
and yet — ” 

“ What is it, my mother ; what wouldst thou 
say ? asked the soldier, seeing the tears in 
his mother’s eyes. 

“ Nay, nay, my son ; it is but my rebellious 
woman’s heart longing for a sight of my Orestes 
once more,” said the lady, trying to force 
back the tears, and looking up fondly in his 
face. 

He pressed her to his heart more tenderly, 
and for a moment felt angry with his brother 
for leaving her. He should have considered 
thy widowed state, and that he was the eldest, 
thy first-born.” 

“But to blame Orestes was to touch the 
widow’s heart more keenly than any thing. 
“ Nay, nay, my son,” she said, “ he is right in 
his choice, and it would mar the sacrifice if he 
allowed any human love to draw him aside 
from his work of prayer and meditation.” 

“ But, my mother, if all were to forsake their 


1 6 Quadratus. 

work in the world and fly to the desert, what 
would become — ” 

“ Orestes did not forsake his work in the 
world,” hastily interrupted the lady. “Thou 
dost forget that in the time of our late emperor 
there was no room in the world for Christians, 
and such as would preserve life and keep their 
faith were compelled to fly to the desert. Ah ! 
blame not my Orestes that he refuseth to look 
on the face of his mother, for I was weak in 
those days, and it may be I should forsake my 
Lord again by trying to hold him back from 
his service in the desert.” 

“ Well, I am glad the service I have under- 
taken calls me to cities rather than deserts, for 
it seemeth a nobler service to carry the conquer- 
ing cross among men than — than — ” and there 
Quadratus paused, for he did not like to say 
any thing disparaging of his eldest brother. 

To his mother, however, that hasty pause was 
eloquent with praise of Orestes. “ I know what 
thou wouldst say, my son — that while thou art 
bearing the conquering cross our Orestes is 
fighting the battle for thee on his knees. I, 
too, will think of this, Quadratus, when tempted 
to repine at his absence, and the thought will 
comfort me for both of ye.” 

Seeing that the thought brought a smile to 


Alexandria. 


17 


that weary, care-worn face, Quadratiis would not 
contradict what had been said, as he at first 
felt inclined to do, but looked round the hall in 
search of his sisters. 

“Where are Placidia and Melissa.^” he 
asked. 

“ Placidia leaves not her chamber, but will 
see thee before thou dost leave Alexandria,” 
said his mother, a faint color stealing into her 
cheeks as she spoke. 

“ My sister is ill — Athanasius told me there 
was much sickness in Alexandria.” 

But the lady shook her head. “ Nay, our 
Placidia is quite well ; but she, too, would fain 
leave the city to dwell in the desert, and so — ” 

“ She has become a nun,” interrupted Quad- 
ratus. It was evident he had very little sym- 
pathy with the choice of either brother or sister, 
and he asked in a half-angry tone, “ Hath 
Melissa forsaken thee, too ” 

“ Thou dost forget Melissa hath gone to be 
the light of another home,” replied his mother, 
“ or did our letters never reach thee } ” 

For a letter to miscarry was nothing very un- 
usual in those days, and so Quadratus had heard 
nothing of his sister’s marriage, or of his moth- 
er’s fear that her husband was little more than half 
a Christian ; but he heard it now, and in listen- 


1 8 Quadratus. 

ing to these particulars he forgot his vexation 
concerning Placidia and Orestes, until the slaves 
summoned them to the repast that had been or- 
dered to be prepared in readiness for the com- 
ing of Quadratus, but which had been forgotten 
in the joy of meeting. 

To see his mother sitting there with none 
but slaves to attend upon and care for her in 
her old age again raised the anger of the young 
soldier as he reflected upon the lonely life she 
must lead when he was away ; and before the 
meal was over, he asked if he could not see 
Placidia at once. 

“Thou art still my impatient Quadratus!” 
said his mother, smiling faintly, as the slaves 
brought a basket of fresh fruit and placed it in 
the middle of the table. 

“ My mother, doth not that basket remind thee 
of the old days when I used to lift Placidia in 
my arms, that she might see all the fruit from 
a distance, and choose which fig she would 
have } ” hastily interrupted Quadratus. 

The lady smiled faintly. “ Shall I ever forget 
those old days 1 ” she said with a sigh. “ Shall 
I ever forget the night when my husband was 
taken from me, to be brought back days after a 
sightless cripple ! O, Quadratus, I was weak in 
those days, but it was the thought of you, my 


Alexandria. 


9 


children, who needed all my care, that made 
me shrink from a like punishment more than 
the pain itself.” 

“ And the Lord Christ knoweth how strong 
the temptation was, and he who forgave Petei 
his denial will forgive thine, my mother,” said 
the young soldier tenderly. 

“ I can never forgive myself, and when I hear 
our patriarch preaching on the Lord’s great 
power and majesty, I feel half afraid lest my 
sin is beyond his forgiveness.” 

“‘Nay, nay, but the power and majesty is all 
on the sinner’s side ; for great as these are, his 
love and compassion are greater. Fear not, my 
mother, thou hast confessed thy sin to him, and 
he hath taken away the iniquity of thy sin. But 
tell me now, cannot I see Placidia at once ? As 
thou sayest, I am impatient to see my sister 
once more, even though she be a nun.” 

** I will ask her to see thee, but I greatly fear 
she will . refuse,” said the lady, rising from her 
seat to go at once upon her errand. 

“ Nay, but tell her I will not be refused,” said 
Quadratus. Tell her I come as a messenger 
from the emperor, and his will is law in the 
Church as in the State now.” This was said 
as a playful jest ; but there was a truth under- 
lying it which Quadratus had already begun 
2 


20 Quadratus. 

dimly to see, and he wondered whether his friend 
Athanasius had seen it too. 

Whether she took this message to Placidia or 
not he never heard ; but a few minutes after- 
ward a slave entered, saying he might ascend 
to the tower-chamber, and the next minute he 
was in his sister’s presence. 

But the calm, grave girl in the somber dress, 
not unlike a philosopher’s robe, was very dif- 
ferent from the gay, laughing Placidia he had 
pictured in his dreams, and as he looked at the 
still, pale, unmoved face he slowly uttered, *“ Is 
it my sister ? ” 

“ I am Placidia,” she replied ; but she did not 
draw a step nearer, and though a faint color stole 
into her face, she made no attempt to greet him, 
nor to show any emotion at his coming. 

After a long and painful silence the soldier 
said, “ I come to thee, Placidia, on behalf of our 
mother. If I could leave the service of the 
emperor I would come home at once to cheer 
her declining days, but thou, my sister, hast no 
other duty, and — ” 

“Hush!” interrupted the young nun; “I, 
too, have a service I cannot forsake — a duty 
higher than all others. For my mother’s sake 
I have promised to abide here instead of retir- 
ing to the desert, but — ” 


Alexandria. 


21 


“And thou dost think a life in a palm-leaf 
hut more noble and pure than helping men and 
women in the world — more pleasing to God 
than serving thy mother, who needeth the care 
of her children now in her days of weakness ?” 
Quadratus spoke angrily, almost fiercely, but 
Placidia was quite unmoved. 

“ I have prepared myself for such tempta- 
tions,” she said calmly, and her mother seeing 
Quadratus was about to retort with another an- 
gry speech hurried him from the room. 


22 


Quadratus. 


CHAPTER 11. 

LEAVEN. 

D isappointed as Quadratus had been 
in his interview with Placidia, he thought 
it would be best to defer his visit to Melissa for 
a few hours at least ; but his mother was anxious 
he should go at once, and so, to please her, he 
set off to the fashionable quarter of the city 
where Melissa lived. 

Quadratus had scarcely expected to see such 
a display of wealth and luxury as met his gaze 
in Melissa’s household, but what struck him 
most painfully was, the contrast its courts pre- 
sented to their own simple, unadorned home. 
Melissa expected him, and he was conducted at 
once to the inner court, the open part of which 
was adorned with a sparkling fountain, which, 
with the wind-sail stretched across the roof 
above, rendered it delightfully cool. 

But it was not the fountain, nor the elegant 
columns of white marble and green porphyry 
that supported the colonnade, nor the orange 
and mimosa trees, with their chattering paro- 
quets and sun-birds, that called up that grave 


Leaven. 


23 

look to his face as he entered, and then started 
as though he would retreat again at once. 

His sister saw the start as she came for- 
ward to greet him, and she looked confused 
and embarrassed as she said “Welcome, my 
Quadratus ! ” 

But the soldier could hardly return the greet- 
ing for the embarrassment he felt, and forget- 
ting for a moment every thing else, he said, 
“This is not thy home — this is no Christian 
household, Melissa.” 

“ Nay, nay, be not so hasty, my brother,” said 
the young matron. “ I am a Christian, as thou 
knowest, and my husband hath given up the 
public worship of the gods, and goes with me to 
church, although he is not yet baptized, and — ” 

“ Our emperor is not baptized, yet he hath 
had all the statues of the demon-gods removed 
from his palace, that men shall no longer be 
tempted to worship them. But what do I see 
here.? There is Juno, and Diana, and Jupiter, 
and Apolld, as though they still claimed and 
received the worship of the household.” Quad- 
ratus spoke sternly — to Melissa it seemed 
unkind. 

“ We do not worship these statues,” she said ; 
“ but my husband hath been used to see them, 
and his father, who lives with us, would be 


24 


Quadratus. 


grieved to lose them from their places. The 
painting on the walls, thou seest, hath all been 
changed, and the legends of the gods have been 
replaced by Christian emblems, and from this 
picture of the shepherd carrying the sheep I 
can tell my little Alypus of the good Shep- 
herd who giveth his life for the sheep.” Melissa 
pointed to one portion of the wall as she spoke, 
and was going on to describe the rest, and the 
lessons she taught her little one from its fres- 
coes, when Quadratus hastily interrupted her 
with the question : — 

“But what will thy little one think of the 
statues, Melissa ? Art thou not afraid of the old 
idolatrous worship for thy boy ? ” 

“ He shall never learn them at all by their 
old demon names,” said Melissa quickly. “ My 
husband hath promised that I shall have my 
own way in this matter, and so I have called 
Jupiter Paul, and Apollo Peter, and while he 
looks at them I tell him of the works and labors 
of the apostles. Do not shake thy head and 
look so grave, for I often talk to Theon, his 
grandfather, by this means, and he will listen 
to Alypus as he sings the ‘Alleluia,’ although 
he will not go to church or converse with 
Athanasius when he comes.” 

“ And thou art quite happy, my sister, sur- 


Leaven. 


25 

rounded by all these symbols of the old idol- 
atry?” asked Quadratus. 

“ Nay, but they are not symbols of the old 
demon-gods to me,” said Melissa ; they are 
beautiful works of art, and often remind me, as 
they do my child, of the apostles after whom 
they are named.” 

“ But, Melissa, if — if they should come to be 
worshiped by and by in the place of God him- 
self.” 

The suggestion, however, seemed so far- 
fetched and so absurd to his sister that instead 
of looking serious she burst into a merry laugh. 
‘‘Now, I know, thou hast been talking to Pla- 
cidia, and it is she who hath put this notion 
into thy head,” she said gayly. 

“ Is it Placidia’s notion, too ? ” asked Quad- 
ratus. 

“ It would be, doubtless, since she would fain 
leave all that is beautiful and loving and home- 
like, to go and live in the desert. I have not 
asked her what she thinks, for it is rarely I see 
her now,” said Melissa, throwing herself on a 
pile of cushions, and beckoning to her brother 
to follow her example. 

Quadratus slowly seated himself near the edge 
of the fountain. “ Athanasius hath not become a 
monk, as many feared,” he remarked carelessly. 


26 Quadratus. 

“ No, this fuss about Arius, and his new, 
strange doctrine, hath drawn him into the busy 
life of the city, and he says it shall be his life’s 
work to refute this heresy.” 

“Heresy!” repeated Quadratus; “that is a 
strong word, Melissa.” 

“ Stronger words and harsher words than 
that have been used here in Alexandria during 
the contest ; but he hath been cut off from the 
Church now by the assent of a hundred bishops, 
and so I hope the very name of Arius will soon 
be forgotten.” 

“ But the emperor wants to make peace be- 
tween him and our pope, Alexander. He 
thinks he hath been harshly judged ; and Euse- 
bius, Bishop of Nicomedia, hath exhorted all 
the bishops of the eastern and western cities 
to receive Arius.” 

“ Then Eusebius must believe his doctrine — 
that Christ is not equal to the Father,” said Me- 
lissa quickly. 

“ It may be so, for both were disciples of 
Lucian, the martyr, and I have heard that he 
held some such views, although he did not carry 
them so far as Arius.” 

“ But will others, thinkest thou, espouse this 
heresy ? ” asked Melissa. 

“They have done so. In Palestine, where 


Leavcit. 


27 


Arius hath been journeying and preaching, he 
hath gained hundreds of converts, many em- 
biacing his views because of his master, Lucian, 
having held them.” 

“ Then, Quadratus, if the Church of Christ 
is thus divided it cannot longer be called 
the one universal, catholic Church. O, my 
brother, I did so love that name — the catholic 
Church — the one Church — the universal body 
of Christians in all lands believing the same 
truths, worshiping the same God and Saviour, 
Jesus Christ O, it is sad, it is pitiful ; the 
persecution hardly over before they begin quar- 
reling and dividing, and all but persecuting 
each other ; ” and the gentle, peace-loving 
Melissa could not refrain from shedding a few 
tears. 

“ Thou art not alone in thy regrets, my sis- 
ter,” said Quadratus. “ Our emperor is most 
anxious to restore peace, and it is for this Hosius 
hath come hither now, for nothing but the res- 
toration of Arius can effect it.” 

“And he must renounce his doctrine — his 
false, unscriptural doctrine — or else not only 
our patriarch, but the city of Alexandria, will 
cast him out,” said Melissa. 

“ I am not skilled in the learning of the schools, 
Melissa, and I know little of the science of hair- 


28 Quadratus. 

splitting, in which many so greatly excel ; but I 
know that anger and bitterness are worse — are 
harder to convince, and do more positive harm 
than even a cruel persecutor like Diocletian.*’ 

“Quadratus, thou dost dare to call our holy 
patriarch, Alexander, more cruel than Diocle- 
tian ! ” exclaimed Melissa, with flashing eyes. 

“ Nay, nay, I said not so ; but that if this 
division — this quarrel about Arius — was carried 
on in a bitter, angry spirit, it would do the 
Church of Christ more harm than a persecu- 
tion from her foes,” hastily explained Quad- 
ratus. 

While he was still speaking, Lucullus, Me- 
lissa’s husband, came in, leading his father by 
the hand, and the soldier was at once presented 
to them. The latest news from Rome was 
eagerly asked for by the old man, and Lucullus 
inquired whether there was any prospect of the 
present peaceful state of the empire continuing 
for any length of time. 

Quadratus shrugged his shoulders. “ There 
have been some whispers concerning the rest- 
lessness of Lycinius, and it is almost certain 
Constantine will make Byzantium the future 
capital of the empire.” 

“ That will make little difference to us here at 
Alexandria, for both cities are dependent upon 


Leaven. 


29 

us for their corn supply ; but what will Rome 
say to the change ? ” 

“ Rome hath already offended our emperor 
by the jests and lampoons made at his expense, 
because the gladiatorial shows are forbidden.” 

“ Ah, it was a pity to put down the games,” 
said Lucullus ; “ the people must be amused 
or they will amuse themselves, and who knows 
but it may be by driving the emperor himself 
from his throne ? ” 

But Quadratus shook his head. “There is 
little fear of that,” he said. “These games 
were wicked and debasing, and not only fos- 
tered a cruel temper in all men, and drew many 
away from useful and peaceful employments, 
but made brute force to appear more courage- 
ous than moral heroism. No man, either Chris- 
tian or Greek philosopher, but is ready to admit 
this.” 

“ I do not deny it,” said Lucullus ; “ but I say 
it is dangerous to put down these savage games 
all at once. Christianity is only struggling into 
existence as yet, and hath many a battle before 
her, not only with the world and its old idol- 
atries, but with the Jews, who are ever ready to 
seize an opportunity of striking a blow at this 
new power ; and the savage temper of our mob 
is the more easily roused if there is not the 


30 OUADRATUS. 

natural outlet for their ferocity allowed, as in 
the games of the arena.” 

“ Then thou wouldst have Christianity pander 
to this ferocity instead of trying to subdue it,” 
said Quadratus. 

“ No one could charge Christianity with in- 
troducing these games. Our people have been 
trained to this fierce love of bloodshed through 
centuries of such exhibitions as are all at once 
forbidden,” said Lucullus, “ and I would have 
the emperor proceed more cautiously.” 

“ He is too cautious to please some ; but in 
this matter most are agreed that, if this fierce 
love thou speakest of is ever to be rooted out, 
it can only be by the suppression of that which 
has fostered it — the games of the arena.” 

“ And, meanwhile, we must suffer from the 
outbreaks of popular fury whenever it hath a 
decent excuse for venting itself in riots and 
tumults,” said Lucullus, discontentedly. 

“It is the penalty we must pay, I suppose, 
for these same centuries of lawless indulgence 
— another form of the Divine law — the sins of the 
fathers visited on the children,” said Quadratus. 

It was evident that Lucullus looked upon 
Christianity in a very cool, philosophical fash- 
ion, not at all in the way his wife and her family 
did. It had suddenly become the fashion, be- 


Leaven. 


31 


cause the emperor had openly declared himself 
a Christian ; and the high road to wealth and 
fame now was through the favor and patronage 
of a bishop, who but a few years before was 
poor and despised, and so Lucullus, like hun- 
dreds of others, had declared himself on the 
popular side, went every day to the Church of 
Alexandria, and married a Christian wife, as 
became a fashionable gentleman, and one of the 
merchant princes of the first commercial city 
in the world. 

Quadratus could understand what his mother 
meant when she called him only half a Chris- 
tian, but he had met with many such lately — 
many not so true, honest, and upright as Lucul- 
lus ; and he left his sister’s home feeling more 
assured of her happiness than when he entered, 
although he still entertained grave doubts of 
her wisdom in retaining the old idols in her 
household. 

Before returning home again he turned to- 
ward the bishop’s house, which was in the 
neighborhood of the stately Serapeum, with its 
four hundred majestic columns, one alone of 
which remains to tell us what the fellows 
of “ Pompey’s Pillar” might have been. The 
building was already grass-grown and half- 
deserted, for the worship of Serapis had de- 


32 Quadratus. 

dined so much the last few years that the 
priests and augurs began to fear its total extinc- 
tion, and hated the Christians accordingly. 
Their hatred, however, was futile now, except in a 
time of public excitement, and then they readily 
joined with the Jews against the common 
enemy, as they chose to regard their fellow-citi- 
zens who had joined the Christians. One of 
the white-robed priests now stood near the 
entrance, and he scowled as he noticed the 
gleaming cross which shone so conspicuously 
on the breast of the soldier. “ They glory in 
their shame,” he muttered ; “ but their glorying 
shall soon end if Serapis hath any power in 
Alexandria.” 

Quadratus found that his peculiar dress as a 
guard of the laburem aroused more curiosity 
than was quite pleasant, and he resolved to 
lay it aside during the rest of his stay in Alex- 
andria, except when he was called upon to 
attend the court bishop, Hosius, officially. Not 
that the sign of the cross was in itself uncom- 
mon now, for almost every Christian wore it as 
a sacred badge, and it occupied the chief place 
of honor in all the churches, and was regarded 
with a veneration only second to actual worship 
since it had been the accredited means of their 
emperor s conversion. 


Leaven. 


33 


Before the archbishop’s house was reached 
Athanasius overtook him with a small party 
of parabolani, or lay brothers, returning from 
their work of visiting the sick and poor, ascer- 
taining their wants of body and soul, and min- 
istering to their temporal and spiritual needs, 
for this care of the poor had been specially 
given to the Church, and a heavy burden it 
was sometimes. • 

Just now the young deacon, faint and wan 
from want of food and the fever-tainted air he had 
been breathing, ventured to say something of 
this as he joined Quadratus. “ I have sore mis- 
givings too, sometimes, whether the patronage 
of the emperor is such a great gain to the 
Church of Christ,” he added in a low whisper. 

Quadratus looked surprised, almost shocked. 

Not a great gain to the Church ! ” he repeated ; 
“why, see the hundreds of worshipers who 
crowd the churches or basilicas, or wherever 
God is worshiped. Think of this, and compare 
it with the time when Diocletian ruled the em- 
pire — when Christians went in fear of their 
lives, when the churches were closed, and God’s 
word could only be taught in secret, and hun- 
dreds were slaughtered for refusing to worship 
the popular gods.” 

“ Have I not thought of it, think you ? Yet, 


34 Quadratus. 

still I sometimes question whether the sudden 
honor, and riches, and fame, have been wholly 
a blessing to the Church, and whether our 
emperors patronage may not also crush our 
liberty and freedom — make the Church a mere 
appanage of the State at last.” 

“ The danger is at least a remote one, and 
the actual gain is present and tangible,” said 
Quadratus. 

“ But we have to guard against remote dan- 
gers,” said Athanasius, “and that is why we 
have so vehemently opposed this doctrine of 
Arius.” 

“ Our emperor will not wish the Church to 
receive a false doctrine,” replied the soldier 
quickly. 

Athanasius shook his head in a doubting 
mannei. “ Constantine is politic, and would 
have peace above all things,” he said evasively. 

“ And is not Christ’s kingdom one of peace 
and love ? ” asked Quadratus. 

“ The kingdom of heaven is first and 
then peaceable, and we have especially to guard 
against errors of doctrine in these days,” said 
the young deacon, who was determined to 
struggle against this rising Arianism even if it 
involved him in a quarrel with Constantine 
himself. 


Brother and Sister. 


35 


CHAPTER III. 

BROTHER AND SISTER. 

Q UADRATUS was sitting with his mother 
a few days after the incident last noticed, 
in their own plainly furnished inner court, when 
the old lady suddenly broke a rather lengthy 
silence by saying, “ I should like little Alypus 
to be baptized this pentecost.” 

Quadratus started from his reverie. “He is 
two years old ; I thought he had been baptized,” 
he said. 

“ Nay, Melissa thinks it were better to be de- 
ferred lest he should stain his white baptismal 
robes with the sins of youth ; but I — I long to 
see the child admitted a member of Christ’s 
Church ; and it may be I shall not live to see 
another pentecost,” said the old lady. 

Quadratus looked into her face anxiously. 
“ My mother, thou art not ill V' he exclaimed. 

“ No, not ill, my son ; but I am an old woman, 
and my life, as thou knowest, hath been a 
troubled one, and — and — ” but she paused and 
would not say more. 

“My mother, what is it.^” asked Quadratus 

-8 


3 ^ 


Quadratus. 

in some alarm, kneeling at her feet and looking 
anxiously into her face. 

She smiled as she smoothed the thick clus- 
tering curls of his dark hair. “ Nay, nay, it is 
nothing — nothing but what must come sooner 
or later, and I have thought the last few weeks 
that it would be soon now — that my mansion 
was almost ready,” she whispered. 

Quadratus turned his head and gazed at the 
splashing fountain for a minute or two in silence. 
“ This was why thou wert anxious to see Ores- 
tes once more,” he said thoughtfully. 

“ I would fain have seen him once more here, 
but I shall not have to wait long, Quadratus, 
for there are no monks in heaven, and my 
Orestes will not shun his mother there. I am 
selfish, I fear, for 1 would fain keep thee with 
me, too, my son — keep thee and see my little 
Alypus baptized.” 

“ I will stay with thee as long as possible,” 
said Quadratus quickly; “and it may be Me- 
lissa will have the child baptized, unless — ” and 
then he paused. 

“What wouldst thou say.?” asked the old 
lady anxiously. 

“Her husband, Lucullus, might object.” 

“Nay, Lucullus is indifferent, and troubles 
not himself about such matters. He goes to 


Brother and Sister. 


37 


church because it is fashionable and good for 
his trade as a merchant, but for all else I fear 
he believes little more in Christ than he does 
in Jupiter.” ^ 

“But he goes to church, thou sayest, and 
often converses with Athanasius, so that he 
may learn to know more fully the truth of our 
holy religion,” said the soldier. 

“ I trust it may be so, for he is in all else a 
true and just man, although he does laugh at 
the dispute with Arius, and often sings the 
songs from his Thalia.” 

“What is the Thalia.?” asked Quadratus. 

“ A book of songs composed by Arius, after 
the pattern of those sung in honor of the demon- 
gods by the lowest and vilest here in our streets. 
Arius himself sings them and dances to them,” 
added the old lady. 

“ And these songs are sung in our streets ! 
Then I myself heard something of this as I 
passed through the market-place this morning, 
and it was the same tune as that used for a 
revel dance. I heard these words quite plainly : 

“ ‘ God was not always Father, 

Once he was not Father, 

Afterward he became Father.’” 

“That is how Arius hath been teaching all 
the city his evil doctrine — saying there was a 


38 


Quadratus. 


time when Christ was not, and it is these 
discussions that cause many like Lucullus to 
stumble,” rejoined the lady quickly. 

“But even in the first age of the Church — in 
the time of the apostles themselves, men dif- 
fered. One said I am of Paul, another of Apol- 
los, and another of Cephas, and it may be when 
Arius is dead others will arise to disturb the 
peace of the Church, so that it behooves every 
one to look, not to teachers or bishops, however 
learned, but to Christ himself If we look more 
entirely to him, trust ourselves to the teaching 
and guidance of his Holy Spirit more than to 
the opinions of men, it will be better for each 
of us, I am sure. I have learned this since I 
have been in Alexandria,” added Quadratus. 

His mother shook her head mournfully. 
“These are degenerate days,” she said; “the 
golden age of the Church hath not dawned yet, 
I fear, as many suppose, although we have a 
Christian emperor on the throne of the Cesars.” 

To Quadratus this seemed like a reproach 
to his master, and as he was devotedly at- 
tached to him he turned the subject by saying, 
“ Could Alypus be baptized before Pentecost, 
my mother ? ” 

“Yes, the fifty days appointed for baptisms 
have not expired. If he were an adult he must 


Brother and Sister. 


39 


of course be received as a catechumen first, and 
receive instruction for some time, but being an 
infant, and the child of Christian parents, there 
will be little difficulty in the matter.” 

“ Then I will ask Melissa to present him for 
baptism at once and that there might be no 
further delay in the matter he rose as he spoke 
and prepared to go out. 

Melissa, however, was not as easily persuaded 
in this matter as her brother expected. “I 
think it is cruel to baptize a child so young,” 
she said. 

“ Cruel ! ” repeated Quadratus. 

“Yes; if it is left until they are grown up 
the grace received is not so easily dissipated — 
they do not stain themselves with sin, and have 
to perform penances to cleanse it away again. 
That is why so many defer their baptism until 
they are grown up — until they are dying — that 
they may have all their sins washed away in the 
water of regeneration, and appear before God 
in their baptismal robes, clean and unspotted 
by the world.” 

Quadratus stared. “ Then it is the water of 
baptism, and not the blood of Christ, that taketh 
away our sins,” he said slowly. 

Melissa colored. “ It is the blood of Christ 
as well,” she said ; “ but — but — ” 


40 Quadratus. 

“ But that is not enough. Would you say 
that ? ” asked Quadratus sternly. 

“ No, no ; thou knowest I do not mean that, 
Quadratus, but at our baptism we receive the 
pardon of our sins, and if we commit sins after- 
ward we must do penance for them or they can- 
not be forgiven. Now how much better it is to 
defer our baptism until later, for sins committed 
after that are so much worse, and then the pen- 
ance to be performed for every slip and mistake 
is often very tiresome.” 

“ Sins are ‘ slips ’ and ‘ mistakes ’ now it 
seemeth, and repentance is ‘tiresome.’ Melis- 
sa, thou didst not learn that of our father and 
mother,” added Quadratus. 

The lady colored more deeply, and mur- 
mured something about “old-fashioned notions,” 
but in a minute or two she said, “ Every body 
thinketh as I do about baptism.” 

“ Every body ! ” repeated her brother. “ Nay, 
nay ; our mother is most anxious to see thy 
Alypus baptized. Hath she told thee, Melissa, 
why she is so desirous of this ” 

“ Placidia hath been teasing her about it, I 
suppose,” said Melissa, pouting. 

“ Nay, but she thinketh her days on earth are 
numbered, and she would fain see the little one 
admitted a member of Christ’s Church here 


Brother and Sister. 


41 


before she herself joins our Father above. That 
is why she was so anxious to see Orestes,” he 
added. 

And Orestes ought to have come and seen 
her,” said Melissa quickly. “ But, Quadratns, is 
my mother ill } ” siie asked in a tone of anxiety. 
“ I know she hath had several fainting fits 
of late, but she said there was little danger in 
them.” 

“She hath not told me about the fits, and she 
hath not complained of illness at all ; but she 
thinketh her end is near. Wilt thou, therefore, 
deny her request — the last, perhaps, she may 
ever prefer ? ” asked her brother, solemnly. 

“ Nay, nay, do not say that ; I cannot spare 
her yet,” said Melissa, bursting into tears. 
“ Alypus shall be baptized if she wisheth it. I 
will give notice that I wish to present him be- 
fore pentecost,” she added. 

“ God bless thee ! and Alypus too, Melissa. 
I am thankful, for my mother’s sake, that thou 
hast decided the matter thus. And let me re- 
mind thee, my sister, that not the water of bap- 
tism but ‘ the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth 
us from all sin.’ ” 

The news that little Alypus was to be bap- 
tized gave his grandmother heartfelt joy, and 
very earnest were the prayers offered on his 


42 


Quadratus. 


behalf that he might receive a rich blessing 
from above, and not only be admitted a mem- 
ber of the Church, but continue a true and 
faithful servant in it until his life’s end. 

Baptisms could only take place in the cathe- 
dral church, and this was in the seaside suburb 
of Baucalis — the very church to which Arius 
had been appointed. This was the oldest 
church in Alexandria, and contained the tomb 
of St. Mark, and to this, during the fifty days 
preceding pentecost, crowds might be seen 
wending their way. Just before the close of 
this sacred season, Lucullus and Melissa, with 
little Alypus, joined the throng in their cur- 
ricle ; while Quadratus and his mother came by 
another and more quiet road — she in her old- 
fashioned litter, carried by slaves, and he walk- 
ing beside her. 

They joined Lucullus at the church, and the 
old lady kissed Alypus fondly, who in his spot- 
less white robe — emblem of the white raiment, 
worn by the saints above, and the sinless state 
of those who are pardoned through the blood 
of Christ — looked as though he understood 
something of what was about to take place. 
“ They brought young children to Jesus,” mur- 
mured the old lady. 

“ Am I going to Jesus now } ” asked Alypus, 


Brother and Sister. 


43 


turning to gaze at the pictures on the wall as 
they entered the church. 

There was a long line of penitents near the 
entrance — men and women who had by trans- 
gression soiled their baptismal robes, and now 
stood with downcast heads, mutely asking ad- 
mittance to the church once more. They would 
stand here once, twice, thrice ; on each time 
there was an assembly for some months, accord- 
ing to the enormity of their offense and as the 
bishop might direct. 

Lucullus glanced at them as he passed. “ I 
should pay some one to stand there for me if 
I could,” he whispered in a half jocular tone 
to Melissa. 

The lady glanced at the silent row of mourn- 
ers and shuddered. Suppose Alypus should 
have to stand there one day. But she put the 
thought from her the next moment ; surely he 
would escape this somehow — perhaps some one 
else might do it for him, as Lucullus had 
suggested. 

They had taken their seats near the baptistry, 
and little Alypus, in his long white robe, stood 
with the rest of the candidates on the other side of 
the font. A presbyter had lighted the candles at 
the stand where the roll of the Gospel was lying 
— not that their light was needful, for it was early 


44 


Quadratus. 

morning ; but various ceremonies had been add- 
ed to the simple service of reading and prayer, 
and this was one of them. The candles were 
lighted to signify the light and joy revealed in 
the Gospel. A door at the side of the church 
was now opened, and the deacons and presbyters 
marched in, followed by the collectors and sing- 
ers, and boys about twelve years old, each of 
them in white, and chanting the “Alleluia” as 
they passed to their places. 

But before they had finished singing there 
was a faint sob heard, and on looking round 
Quadratus saw his mother sink down, pale and 
speechless, beside him. He would have carried 
her out at once, but Melissa said it was not 
necessary. “ It is only a fainting fit,” she said. 
“The excitement is a little too much for her ; ” 
and, chafing her hands as she spoke, she soon 
had the satisfaction of seeing her revive. 

“Thou must not stay to the communion,” she 
whispered ; “ when Alypus hath been baptized 
thou hadst better let Quadratus take thee home.” 

But the old lady shook her head. “ I am 
quite well again now,” she said, “and I will 
partake of this holy feast once with the child.” 

The service was very short, and then the 
bishop advanced to the font and the candi- 
dates drew near. One by one they were bap- 


Bjvther and Sister. 


45 


tized, then the bishop laid his hand upon their 
heads, and breathing upon them, said, “ Receive 
ye the Holy Ghost.” 

A little later in the day the newly-baptized 
and other members of the Church gathered 
round the table of the Lord to commemorate 
the dying love of Christ for them, and to this 
sacred feast Alypus was led by his pious grand- 
mother. 

We may never meet here again, my child,” 
said the old lady, her voice quivering with 
emotion. “It may be I shall soon eat this in 
the kingdom above ; but never forget this, 
Alypus, thy grandmother brought thee here, 
and thy grandfather was a martyr for the truth 
this feast proclaims. Melissa, thou wilt not 
forget to remind him of this. Thou wilt keep 
this day fresh in his memory, wilt thou not V 
added the old lady, turning to her daughter. 

Alypus, of course, could only look from one 
to the other, not understanding much of what 
was said beyond this, that the Lord Jesus loved 
little children, and had now taken him to be 
his own little boy, and that the piece of bread 
he ate and the wine he drank had been sent by 
the Lord himself to assure him of this fact, 
and that he himself might never forget it. 

“ I belong to the Lord Jesus as uncle belongs 


46 Quadratus. 

to the emperor,” lisped Alypus as he was go- 
ing home, and repeating the words after Quad- 
ratus, for Melissa had taken charge of her 
mother in the litter, while Quadratus took her 
place in the curricle beside Lucullus. 

Mind thou art as faithful in thy service, 
too, as thy uncle, or else — dost thou know 
where they will put thee if thou art naughty, 
Alypus ?”* asked his father. 

The child shook his head. “Will they whip 
me.^” he asked. 

“ Worse than that,” said his father ; “ they 
will make thee stand in the vestibule of the 
church, as thou sawest those poor men to-day. 
I say,” he added, turning to Quadratus, “ I saw 
one of the richest men in Alexandria standing 
among the penitents to-day.” 

“ Rich men commit sins as well as poor men, 
I suppose,” said Quadratus drily. 

“Yes, I suppose they do, but to see such a 
man as that before the church door ! ” and Lu- 
cullus shrugged his shoulders suggestively. 

“ He needeth repentance as much as the 
poorest, and it cost as much to redeem him,” 
said Quadratus. 

“Yes, I suppose it did; but if this penance 
could be done by proxy — by paying somebody 
else to stand there for thee.” 


Brother and Sister. 47 

Quadratus looked greatly shocked, and yet 
what horrified him has since become a standing 
custom in that Church which calls itself Catholic 
and Apostolic, for it was by the adoption of the 
plan Lucullus recommended that the papal sys- 
tem of indulgences was introduced. Men who 
could pay to have the penance imposed for their 
sins performed for them preferred to do so, 
and this being a source of wealth to the Church 
became a prolific root of evil, and one of the 
greatest scandals of that corrupt organization. 

This, however, was not foreseen then, but the 
suggestion of his brother-in-law made Quad- 
ratus very thoughtful during the rest of his 
journey homeward, and, to escape further dis- 
cussion about this and the never-failing topic 
of Arius and his heresy, he left Lucullus as 
soon as he could, saying he wanted to go to 
church in the evening. 


48 


Quadratus. 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE RIOT. 

Q uadratus went to the evening serv- 
ice in the church, where the patriarch 
preached to a crowded audience, many of whom 
evinced their attention and admiration of what 
was said by loudly clapping their hands. This 
was quite usual, so that Quadratus took little 
notice of the fact, but he could not help re- 
marking that as the congregation left they 
gathered into little knots of twos and threes 
to discuss the subject of the archbishop’s ser- 
mon, which denounced more vehemently than 
ever the doctrine taught by Arius. It had 
been the common topic of conversation in 
Alexandria for months now. Slaves at the 
fruit-stalls, merchants meeting to talk over the 
price of wheat and figs, as well as the parab- 
olani with their deacons, were all discussins: 
the same abstruse subject — the beginning of the 
being of Christ : whether he, like the Father, 
was from all eternity, or whether, as Arius de- 
clared, he was inferior to the P'ather — not co- 
eternal or co-equal. 


The Riot. 


49 


This was the question agitating Alexandrian 
society and the whole Christian Church at 
large, and the ever-watchful foes — the Jews 
and the worshipers of the fallen gods — were 
eagerly watching for an opportunity to throw 
discredit upon either party or both parties in 
this strife. 

It was soon understood that the emperor’s 
letter had not pleased the patriarch, Alexander, 
and Quadratus heard from his friend Athana- 
sius that Constantine had arrogated to himself 
the power of dictating to the archbishop as to 
the expediency of recalling Arius and dropping 
this discussion. 

“ It is as I feared,” said the young deacon ; 
“ we are to yield our liberty as the price of 
imperial patronage, and I, in my poor person, 
will oppose it. Nothing can compensate for 
the loss of this,” he went on ; “ better be perse- 
cuted than patronized at the price of liberty.” 

Many of the deacons and presbyters gave 
expression to even more intemperate language 
than this, and the parabolani taking up the 
cause still more warmly, Alexandria was soon 
in a state of profound agitation. It might, 
however, have passed over quietly enough but 
for the sneering remarks of some Jews concern- 
ing the cowardice of Christians in grumbling at 


Quadratus. 


so 

the emperor and yet bowing down to his effigy, 
for Alexandria, in her gratitude, had raised a 
statue to the honor of Constantine. 

This sneer was all that was needed to set in 
a blaze the already inflamed passions of the mob, 
and the next moment the statue was hurled 
from its pedestal, and the Jews had cried, ^‘Trai- 
tors and incendiaries,” and were fiercely con- 
tending for the fragments of the broken marble. 

The news of this disturbance spread quickly, 
and despite the arrival of the prefect, Appicatus, 
upon the scene, Jews and Christians were soon 
engaged in a fierce struggle — not now for the 
possession of a few broken pieces of marble, but 
for a whole quarter of a city. It was no hand 
to hand combat now, but monks and citizens of 
all grades had armed themselves with the first 
missiles that came to hand to fight against their 
Jewish adversaries, not hesitating to enter the 
houses and shops, and help themselves to what 
they wanted. Of course, the Jews were not 
slow to follow this initiative, and when the 
owners resisted they were assailed, and in many 
cases the houses set on fire, amid shouts and 
screams of terror and triumph. The worshipers 
of Serapis and the old Greek deities were not 
one whit behind their Jewish coadjutors, and 
urged on the mob with cries of “ Death to the 


The Riot. 


51 


Christian traitors ! death to these murdering 
monks!” for many of these anchorites of the 
desert had come to the city just now and were 
foremost in the fray, though it was more in the 
way of parrying blows than striking them. On 
the mob rushed, spreading consternation wher- 
ever they appeared, until, at last, the retired 
quarter where Quadratus and his mother were 
living was itself invaded. 

The young soldier had only just assured her 
that there was little fear of the rioters reaching 
them, when the mob was heard entering the 
street, and the next minute half a dozen slaves 
ran into the inner court, where they were sit- 
ting in an agony of terror. “Hush, hush, ye 
will frighten my mother,” said Quadratus. 

But the brave old lady assured him she was 
not alarmed, although she grew pale as another 
shout reached her from the mob outside. “ This 
is not the first riot I have seen in our streets,” 
she said, rising as she spoke. “ I will go to 
Placidia, my Quadratus, and do thou keep guard 
if it be needful.” 

But before going to the door Quadratus led 
his mother toward the tower-stairs, and it was 
well he did so, for before she had mounted half 
a dozen steps she fainted in his arms, and he 
carried her back to the open court at once and 
4 


52 Quadratus. 

dispatched one of the female slaves to summon 
his sister. 

Placidia was not long in obeying the sum- 
mons, and, with a hasty assurance that there 
was nothing to fear, Quadratus rushed to the 
entrance gates just in time to see them forced 
open by a party of Jews. Quadratus was un- 
armed, but he fought manfully and tried to rouse 
the courage of the slaves to help him, but the 
sight of half a dozen Jews fighting with vine- 
stocks, stones, and sticks indiscriminately, was 
too much for them and they fled, leaving Quad- 
ratus bruised, bleeding, almost dead, in a recess 
where his enemies had pushed him while they 
made their way into the house. 

On they rushed, furious with passion, mad- 
dened with the delay at the gates, breaking and 
destroying all that came before them, until the 
inner court was reached, and there they paused 
for a moment at the sight of the helpless nun 
and the white-haired old lady, still lying on the 
cushions where her son had placed her. Only 
for a moment did they pause in their work of 
destruction, and then one of them seized Placi- 
dia by the wrist and hurried her away ; but no 
one dared to touch the still silent form of the 
old lady, and they went out leaving her undis- 
turbed in her dreamless sleep. 


r 





Placidia carried off by the Jewish Rioters. 


r I 

HL. 


J 






The Riot. 


55 


When Quadratus recovered consciousness 
the noise of the tumult was dying away in the 
distance, and after a great effort he managed 
to crawl out of the friendly recess which had 
been the means of saving his life, and dragged 
his bruised, bleeding limbs through the vestibule 
to the inner court, where he saw his mother 
still lying apparently in undisturbed repose, 
although vases, urns, and flowers had been 
torn from their places and dashed to pieces all 
around. 

“ Thank God they have not injured her ! ” he 
said, half-aloud, as he ventured to call, in a feeble 
voice, “ Mother, mother !” But no answer came 
to his call, and, in some alarm, he laid his hand 
upon her forehead. Alas ! that was as cold as 
the marble pillar near which she lay, and look- 
ing then more closely at the set, rigid features, he 
saw that she was dead ! With a bitter cry of 
anguish he flung himself beside her, and for a 
few minutes gave himself up to the unrestrained 
indulgence of his grief. Then, suddenly recol- 
lecting that he had left Placidia beside her, 
he turned to look for his sister, but she was 
nowhere to be seen ; and some of the slaves 
having now ventured to creep out of their 
hiding-places, he despatched several in search 
of her. 


56 Quadratus. 

But they soon returned with the alarming 
intelligence that she was nowhere to be found. 
Every room in the house had been searched, 
but no trace of her could be discovered ; and the 
only hope Quadratus had was, that she had 
gone to Melissa’s for assistance, or in search of 
him. 

This hope, however, was soon dispelled, for 
Lucullus himself came in a few minutes’ after- 
ward to inquire how they had fared, for the 
guards, or stationaries, as they were called, had 
quelled the disturbance at last. 

“ Placidia hath told thee all, hath she not ? ” 
asked Quadratus, with a slight groan. 

“ I have not seen Placidia, but I can see the 
miscreants have done a good deal of mischief 
Art thou hurt ? ” suddenly asked Lucullus, notic- 
ing for the first time his torn, disordered dress 
and bleeding hands. 

“ A little, not much,” answered Quadratus 
faintly, and then added, “ But my mother, Lu- 
cullus — the strife hath killed /ter” 

“ Killed her ! ” exclaimed Lucullus, stooping to 
look closer at the pale, set features. Quadratus 
did not- hear his brother-in-law’s next exclama- 
tion, for he had fainted ; and while he was still 
unconscious, Lucullus had him placed on a mat- 
tress and carried to his own house, that Melissa 


The Riot. 


57 


might nurse him under the doctor’s directions, 
while at the same time he ordered the slaves to 
remove as far as possible all traces of the riot, 
and prepare the body of their mistress for the 
funeral. 

His next care was to make further inquiries 
for Placidia among the neighboring houses, 
but no one had seen the young nun, and at last 
the funeral took place without any tidings being 
obtained as to her hiding-place. One hope 
alone remained to her anxious friends now, 
and that was that she had escaped and gone 
to Orestes in the desert. She had long been 
anxious to leave her home and devote herself to 
an eremitic life they knew, and at length Quad- 
ratus determined to ascertain this fact by go- 
ing himself to the laura, or hermits’ colony, 
where his brother lived, as soon as he was able 
to travel. 

This mission Athanasius promised to aid by 
obtaining for him a letter from the patriarch to 
the abbot of the colony ; but at the same time 
he warned him not to attempt to remove Placi- 
dia from her retirement if he found her, and 
this Quadra* us readily promised, as his sole 
anxiety now was to be certain that she had 
escaped a fate worse than death to one brought 
lip as Placidia had been. To divert his mind from 


58 Quadratus. 

this all-engrossing anxiety as to his sister’s fate, 
the young deacon then told him of the progress 
of public affairs in Alexandria. Hosius had 
returned to Byzantium, having effected noth- 
ing by his visit, for Alexander and his clergy 
'were more than ever determined to hold aloof 
from Arius. “ His doctrine hath done mis- 
chief enough already,” went on Athanasius ; 
“ for he would have men believe that the Son of 
God was a man of like passions as ourselves, 
and effectually deprive us of the due reverence 
we ought to feel in approaching him, so that it 
behooves every man now to preach and teach 
his power and godhead fully, and without com- 
promise.” 

Little did Athanasius suspect that in his zeal 
to uphold the honor and power of the Lord 
Jesus Christ he was so overlooking his love 
and tenderness that many a sensitive, repentant 
soul was growing afraid to approach him — was 
losing sight of him as a Saviour who could be 
touched with a feeling of their infirmities, and 
began to regard him as a judge who was re- 
moved from them to an infinite distance, where 
in majesty and glory he reigned supreme, all 
but indifferent to the struggles and efforts of 
poor, frail, erring mortals, who knelt before 
him. 


The Riot. 


59 

It was not what Alexander or his true and 
devout young deacon meant to teach, but it 
was what men and women had begun to deduce 
from it ; and this feeling, now arising in so many 
earnest, inquiring minds, laid the foundation of 
one of the grossest errors into which the Church 
afterward fell. 

This danger, however, was not apprehended 
at that time ; but Quadratus had foreseen that 
his sister s plan of retaining the old statues in 
her household and calling them by Christian 
names might be a prolific source of miscon- 
ception by and by, and he mentioned the matter 
to Athanasius one day, for he knew the young 
•deacon must have noticed this. 

He shook his head gravely in reply. “ I know 
not what to think about it,” he said ; “ many, 
like Melissa, are anxious to win new converts by 
any and all means ; and concessions are thus 
made, and old customs retained, that would be 
better discontinued.” 

“ The danger is not for the present genera- 
tion, perhaps,” said Quadratus ; “ but it is pos- 
sible, I think, that these statues, renamed 
though they are, may be the cause of a revival 
of another form of idolatry.” 

“It were better, certainly, if they were put 
away, and the old simplicity retained in all 


6o Quadratus. 

things ; ” and Athanasius sighed as he reflected 
that this simplicity was passing away, not only 
in the matter of domestic and household arrange- 
ments, but in the conduct of public worship in 
the churches. 

“ We are fallen upon evil times, I fear, in 
spite of all this seeming prosperity,” said Quad- 
ratus, with a half-drawn sigh. 

“ Nay, nay, say not so,” interrupted Athana- 
sius quickly. “ The Church Catholic is rising 
into power — putting on her glorious apparel to 
conquer the nations of the world for our God.” 

“ But she must beware, lest the world, having 
failed to crush her by its terrors, should now 
soothe her into sloth and forgetfulness by its 
blandishments,” said Quadratus. 

“Sloth and forgetfulness,” repeated Athana- 
sius, in a half-offended tone. “ Have we been 
slothful or forgetful in this dispute with Arius } ” 
he asked. 

“ Nay, it was of myself rather than of thee I 
was thinking, for it is not so easy to be watch- 
ful and prayerful now as in the days of persecu- 
tion,” said the soldier, who during his illness 
had had time to review the latter years of his 
life passed in the eager bustle of the camp and 
court, and by no means conducive to a very 
regular or devout life. 


The Riot. 


6i 


Quadratus had always been regarded, and 
thought himself, a very excellent Christian, but 
he began to 'see now that a good deal of what 
was once deep religious life to him had now 
drifted into a mere formalism — a dead shell — 
the life from which had departed. 

“ The world is dangerous — is alluring,” as- 
sented Athanasius, “and canst thou wonder 
that so many fly from it to an undisturbed life 
of prayer and meditation in the desert, where 
they can serve God undisturbed by the cares 
and pleasures, pomps and ambitions, of the 
world, which is still lying in wickedness.” 

“ And yet it was the world lying in wicked- 
ness that God loved and Christ came to redeem,” 
said Quadratus thoughtfully. 

Athanasius did not notice the interruption. 
“ Could there be a stronger protest against the 
luxury and sensuality of this age than the vol- 
untary giving up of all social ties, all home 
joys, all civilized society, for a life of toil, and 
prayer, and meditation, alone in the desert or 
in some lonely laura,” he said, as though he 
would persuade the soldier to embrace this 
eremitic life for himself. 

“ It is a protest, as thou sayest, Athanasius, 
and it gives an honor and dignity to common 
cvery-day toil ; but still, self-denying as these 


62 


Quadratus. 

men and women are, would it not be better for 
the world and for themselves to remain in their 
appointed stations, laboring still, *and fighting 
against the temptations by which they are sur- 
rounded instead of flying from them, which to 
me savors of cowardice.” 

“ Nay, nay, my Quadratus, wait until thou 
hast seen our monks of Nitria before thou dost 
accuse them of cowardice,” said Athanasius, 
rising as he spoke, for he saw there was little 
chance of agreement between them on this 
topic at present, and so he wisely withdrew. 


A Fruitless Search. 


63 


CHAPTER V. 

A FRUITLESS SEARCH. 

I T was arranged that not only Quadratus but 
Melissa and little Alypus, with half a dozen 
household slaves to attend upon them, should 
go by barge from Alexandria up the Nile, to 
the nearest point from whence Orestes could 
be reached, by which time Quadratus would so 
far have recovered his strength as to be able to 
perform this part of his journey on foot if he 
could not obtain any conveyance. A large 
store of provisions was taken on board, which, 
with fresh supplies of fruit and fish obtained at 
the villages along the banks, allowed them to 
pursue their voyage in a very leisurely fashion, 
which suited the rowers quite as well as it did 
Melissa. Over the after part of the elegant 
gilded barge was spread an ornamented awning 
under which some mattresses and a pile of 
cushions were laid, and here the lady could 
lounge or play with her little boy all day or talk 
to Quadratus, who preferred to sit outside and 
see what was . passing around him, and where 
she could sleep comfortably at night. 


64 


Quadratus. 


“ We shall see nothing up this miserable 
canal,” said Melissa with a sigh, as she waved 
her fan of peacock’s feathers, and adjusted her 
thin silk robe in more graceful folds. Melissa 
had not thought much about this matter of 
dress at one time, but she was a fashionable 
lady now, and it engrossed a good deal of her 
attention. A heavy gold cross was suspended 
from her neck, and a small roll of parchment, 
set and clasped with jewels, hung from her 
girdle, but it was rarely opened, as Quadratus 
noticed, and little Alypus was left almost entire- 
ly to the care of the slaves. 

Before the first week was over Melissa began 
to complain of the monotony of their voyage. 
“ There is nothing to see but these high mud 
banks and a water-wheel here and there,” she 
grumbled. 

“ I am afraid we shall have to depend upon 
each other a good deal for diversion,” said Quad- 
ratus, “unless thou dost like watching the re- 
flection of the skies in the waters below.” 

Melissa uttered an exclamation of disgust. 
“ I am tired of every thing there is to be seen 
here,” she said with a yawn. 

“ Alypus finds plenty of amusement,” said her 
brother, as the child came running toward him 
to announce some fresh discovery he had made. 


I 


A Fruitless Search, 


65 


“There is another raft of jars going to be 
sold,” he lisped as one of these came floating 
past. “ I wonder whether they are going to 
our market.” 

“ Perhaps they are,” said Quadratus ; “ but 
look, there are some monks fishing from that 
boat in the bay. I wonder whether Orestes is 
still fond of fishing.” This last remark was ad- 
dressed to his sister rather than to the child. 

“ I wish Orestes would settle the question 
concerning his share of the property,” said Me- 
lissa testily. 

“ I thought it was settled : — that as he had 
given up all share in the active business of life 
the Church should receive all that of right be- 
came his.” 

Melissa pouted. “The Church is growing 
enormously rich, I should think, there are so 
often bequests of land, money, houses, and 
Jewels left to it now.” 

“ Melissa, dost thou grudge the Church these 
riches.^” asked her brother. 

The lady looked confused, and murmured 
something about her share being small and her 
private expenses heavy, but before she could 
say any thing openly Quadratus spoke again. 

“ Think of the heavy burden the Church hath 
to sustain in the care of all the poor and sick,” 


66 


Quadratus. 

he said ; “ if it were not for this gracious law of 
the emperor, which empowers the Church to 
receive such gifts, they could not be fed and 
clothed.” 

“ Then the State would have to look after 
them,” said Melissa. “ Lucullus says this was 
just a clever trick of Constantine to get rid of 
a troublesome burden, and an easy way of pro- 
viding for it, by which he got rid of all the ex- 
pense and responsibility.” 

Quadratus looked shocked. He had never 
seen his sister in this mood before, and he was 
at a loss to understand it. To turn the con- 
versation, therefore, he spoke of Placidia, and 
her desire to enter upon a life of poverty and 
privation. 

“ I could never endure it, I am sure,” said 
Melissa ; “ and I think thou hadst better per- 
suade her to return with thee.” 

“We are not yet sure of finding her,” said 
Quadratus with an anxious sigh as a long line 
of palm-leaf huts came into view at a short dis- 
tance from the bank of the river, and where it 
was just possible his sister had found shelter 
while on her way to the more distant laura. 

“ Quadratus, what wilt thou do if Orestes 
hath not heard of her.?” asked Melissa, rousing 
herself from her lethargy. 


A Fruitless Search. 


67 


The soldier shook his head. “ It is my last 
hope for her, Melissa,” he said, “and I cannot 
contemplate the failure of that, for the only 
other alternative is too dreadful to think of.” 

“ What is it 1 ” asked Melissa anxiously. 

“ Hast thou not thought that these Jews, in 
their grasping love of money and hatred of all 
Christians, might sell our sister?” said Quad- 
ratus in a lower tone. 

“ Sell her! sell our Placidia!” gasped Melissa 
in horror. “ What dost thou mean ?” 

“That I fear it may be so — that it is quite 
possible they may sell Placidia in one of the 
European slave-markets,” said the soldier, try- 
ing to hide his emotion. 

Melissa forgot her apathy and her indolent 
airs now. “ Placidia a slave I ” she gasped. “ O, 
Quadratus, save her — save my poor little Pla- 
cidia from such a cruel fate I ” 

“I will if it be possible I Hush, hush, Me- 
lissa, do not cry ; it may be that she hath gone 
to Orestes or to some company of nuns here in 
the desert.” 

“ Thou wilt find her if it is so ; and if not — 
O, my brother — ” 

“ Nay, nay, do not think the case so hope- 
less. If the worst hath happened Lucullus 
may yet discover her, for he hath sent to 


68 Quadratus. 

Rome and Byzantium, offering a large ransom 
for her. 

“Then Lucullus feared this likewise,” said 
Melissa. 

“ We feared it might be possible ; but I still 
hope she €scaped to the desert. Thou wilt be 
brave, Melissa, and let me leave the boat to- 
morrow to inquire at some of the convents ; 
otherwise, we may pass on and never discover 
her.” 

“ Could I not go with thee } ” asked the lady. 

“ It would so sorely hinder me that I fear 
we should never find her, for thou knowest if 
thou wert to appear near a laura all the monks 
would leave it.” The soldier smiled at the 
thought of a daintily dressed lady, like Me- 
lissa, invading the monk’s seclusion, and won- 
dered what Orestes would say when he saw her 
approaching. 

“ I suppose I should hinder thee,” said Me- 
lissa with a sigh ; “ but thou wilt come back to 
me in a day or two .^” 

“ I think my promise had better be condi- 
tional. Thou shalt go on as far as Thebes, and 
wait there one day for me ; if possible, I will join 
thee there ; but, if I should not come, do not 
stay longer, or Lucullus will grow anxious. I 
will return to Alexandria as speedily as pos- 


A Fruitless Search. 


69 


sible ; but I know not what hinderances there 
may be in the way of finding Placidia, even if 
she should be in the desert.” 

“ Thou thinkest thou will find her, dost thou 
not ? ” said Melissa, anxious for the smallest 
hope concerning her sister. 

“ Yes, I pray she may have gone to Orestes ; 
but, my Melissa, thou must not forget she is in 
God’s hands wherever she may be,” said Quad- 
ratus tenderly. “ He knoweth our anxiety, and 
her unfitness for toil and hardship ; for he know- 
eth our frame, and the Lord Christ can sympa- 
thize with her as well as with us, and — ” 

“ But — but dost thou think the Lord Christ 
does sympathize with our little sorrows and 
cares now } He did with his disciples, of course, 
but he is so great, and high, and holy now, I 
feel afraid to go to him as — as our father 
used,” said Melissa in a hesitating tone. 

“ Afraid, my sister ! ” repeated Quadratus. 

“ Yes ; in the eternal majesty and glory where 
he hath dwelt from all eternity, how can such 
poor, unworthy prayers as mine reach him,” 
and Melissa almost shivered as she spoke. 

In a moment Quadratus seemed to under- 
stand her difficulty, and how it had arisen. “ The 
Lord Christ seems to have removed so much 
farther off now than in the old days of trouble 


70 


Quadratus. 


and persecution, is not that it, Melissa ? ” he 
asked. 

“ Ah, those old days ! they were happy days, 
Quadratus, in spite of the persecution. The 
Lord Christ seemed to be a real, personal friend 
to each one of them. I was not so old as Pla- 
cidia is now, but I can remember I never felt 
afraid to go to him any more than I was of con- 
fessing a fault to my mother. How is it — what 
makes the difference ? ” she asked. 

“ My sister, be sure of this, the difference is 
not in Him but in thee. He has not moved 
further from thee, but thou dost care less to 
live near Him. That is the chief reason. But 
I think there is also another. Our holy patri- 
arch, in his care and anxiety lest people should 
fall into the old error of saying there be gods 
many and lords many — in his devout desire 
that the Lord Christ should be duly honored 
and reverenced — for fear they should have any 
leaning toward this Arianism that now threatens 
to divide the Church — has of late preached and 
taught almost exclusively the power and majesty, 
and honor and glory of the Lord Christ ; and 
so by degrees people are beginning to lose the 
consciousness of his tenderness, sympathy, and 
love, and placed him far away from them as it 
seems ; but thou must remember it is only in 


A Fruitless Search, 71 

seeming, Melissa, for he is ‘ the same yesterday, 
to-day, and forever.’ ‘ For we have not a high 
priest which cannot be touched with the feeling 
of our infirmities ; but was in all points tempted 
like as we are, yet without sin.’ Try to think 
of this, Melissa, as well as the power and glory 
of Christ, and then he will not be so far off,” 
said Quadratus as he concluded. 

But after he had left the boat and taken 
the road leading to the nearest monastery his 
thoughts went back to this conversation, and he 
wondered whether others as well as Melissa had 
began to feel that Christ was afar off from them 
now. “ It is the natural recoil from the teach- 
ing of Arius, I suppose, and yet there may be 
a danger in this — it may be pushed too far until 
men and women are afraid to approach the 
Friend of sinners. The possibility that this 
recoil could push the Saviour from his place, as 
the mediator between God and man, Quadra- 
tus never once glanced at any more than Atha- 
nasius or Alexander ; or could they have foreseen 
the practical effect of their insistance upon this 
one-sided view of the Lord’s character and attri- 
butes, they would, with all the energy and faith- 
fulness of their devout and earnest souls, have 
combated the slightest approach to a deification 
of the Lord’s mother, which was the actual out- 


72 Quadratus. 

come of this total forgetfulness of his humanity. 
He was still thinking of this and the disturbed 
state of the Church of Alexandria, when he came 
upon a little colony of huts, and a monk at once 
came forward to proffer what hospitality he had 
at command upon the stranger. 

Maize and millet, with fish as an occasional 
dainty, was quite sufficient for the brotherhood, 
but they had some dried meat and a few small 
skins of wine for the refection of strangers, and 
this was pressed upon the soldier before he had 
stated the errand upon which he had come. 

Isolated as these men were, news from the 
outer world rarely reached them, and so the 
tidings Quadratus brought from Alexandria 
was welcome indeed, and the abbot at once 
dispatched two of the brothers to make inquiries 
at the neighboring monasteries and convents 
concerning Placidia, while the soldier rested and 
refreshed himself preparatory to resuming his 
journey, for he was still two days’ travel from 
the laura where Orestes presided. 

No tidings of Placidia could be gained by the 
monks, and so Quadratus set off on his journey 
through the desert, guided by his hosts which 
direction to take so as to call upon each little 
colony of hermits as he passed, for they were 
dotted here and there, like oases in the bound- 


A 'Fniitless Search. 


n 


less expanse of the arid, sandy waste, that 
stretched on and on to an almost limitless ex- 
tent as it seemed to Quadratus. 

The laura over which his brother presided 
as abbot was reached at last, and his heart beat 
high with hope that tidings of Placidia would 
be gained at last. 

The palm-leaf huts were built under the 
shadow of a wall of crags, and here, in the 
midst of the desert, they had created a little 
oasis ; for with infinite labor they had carried up 
from the banks of the Nile sufficient earth to 
plant a garden, where they grew maize, millet, 
and pulse, which sufficed for their few wants ; 
and for clothing a ragged sheep-skin, secured 
by a leathern girdle, was all they needed and 
all they wore ; and to obtain these, and send 
something to those poorer than themselves, 
each brother worked diligently, weaving palm- 
leaf mats or baskets when not engaged upon 
the garden or at prayers. And hither had 
come men of whom the world was not worthy — 
earnest souls, who had grown sick of the rotten- 
ness and corruption that pervaded all ranks of 
society, and who, longing for closer and nearer 
communion with God, sought it by flying from 
their fellows and hiding themselves even from 
their own families. There was one thing, how- 


74 


Quadratus. 

ever, they did not forget, and that was the bless- 
ing of the curse : “In the sweat of thy face shalt 
thou eat bread.” In the world they had fled 
from, work was despised and shunned ; but there 
the fathers of agriculture and the custodians of 
literature gave a new law to the world, and digni- 
fied labor by working with. their might at what- 
soever their hand found to do. They were no 
drones, these early monkish fathers, and if they 
made the mistake of flying from those made, 
like themselves, in the image of God — and whom 
the common Father would have had them serve 
and recognized the service as done unto him- 
self — we cannot feel greatly surprised, for men 
had ceased to be men and become monsters, 
and the giant evil that had well-nigh crushed the 
Church now threatened to debase it, and holi- 
ness, purity, and virtue could only be found in 
that world which these men had set themselves 
to contemplate and prepare themselves for, to 
the total exclusion of this. 

When Quadratus reached the laura and asked 
for Brother Orestes he was shown at once to 
his rude hut, and while one brother went to 
fetch him from the garden in which he was 
working, another placed before the soldier a 
bunch of dried dates and some palm wine ; but 
Quadratus was too anxious about his sister to 


A Fruitless Scaj'ch. 


75 


eat or drink, and when he saw his brother, 
in his ragged sheepskin, slowly approaching, he 
went out to meet him. 

My brother, dost thou not know me — thy 
brother in the flesh, Quadratus ? ” he asked. 

The long, gaunt, bony arm was raised, and 
he placed his sun-browned horny hand over his 
eyes to screen them a little from the sun’s rays 
as he said, slowly, “Thou art Quadratus, from 
Alexandria ! ” 

“Yes, I came from Alexandria in search of our 
sister, Placidia. Hast thou seen her, Orestes } ” 

“ Seen Placidia, my sister } Nay, thou know- 
est her holy desire to dwell in the desert was 
opposed by all her friends in the flesh, how 
then should I see her.” 

For a moment Quadratus was too much 
agitated to reply ; but when they reached the 
tent he drew forth the patriarch’s letter, and 
afterward told Orestes of the riot, his mother’s 
death, and Placidia’s mysterious disappearance. 

For a moment Orestes too seemed agitated, 
but he quickly subdued his emotion, as being 
too carnal for a monk’s indulgence, and said, 
though still with a slight tremor in his voice, 
“ The sin of these her friends hath fallen heavily 
upon them, and doubtless they feel it as a sore 
judgment of the Lord to have her thus removed.” 


76 


Quadratus. 

“ Nay, it is not for ourselves, but for her, we 
grieve. Think, Orestes, if she hath not escaped 
to the desert, what her fate may be.” 

“ The Lord hath removed her, I say, and he 
knows how to take care of his own,” said the 
monk calmly ; and to all Quadratus’ anxious 
fears he returned the same answer — not that he 
did not care for Placidia’s fate, but he devoutly 
believed in miracles still being performed, and 
in his own mind he was sure Placidia had been 
the subject of one, and was now miraculously 
removed from the world to some lonely laura. 


At Nicea. 


77 


CHAPTER VI. 

AT NICEA. 

« 

Q UADRATUS was by no means so sure 
that Placidia had been removed from 
Alexandria by heavenly intervention as his 
brother. He feared that motives only too 
earthly and mercenary had led to her mysteri- 
•ous disappearance, but all his fears failed to 
arouse any alarm in Orestes. She was in God’s 
hands, he said, and he could guard his own, a 
truth the soldier did not attempt to contradict, 
only he believed in the use of ordinary methods 
to ascertain her situation, while Orestes trusted 
implicitly in the miraculous, and looked upon 
all human agency as savoring of a want of faith ; 
so that Quadratus received no encouragement 
from him to push his researches further, and 
having been already longer than he anticipated, 
he resolved to return to Alexandria with all 
speed, lest dispatches should have arrived from 
Byzantium summoning him to return. 

He would fain have lingered among the Ti- 
tanic ruins of the old world cities with which 
this portion of Egypt was studded, but he had 


78 


Quadratus. 


to be content with a passing glimpse of these 
as he glided down the Nile in his flat-bottomed 
boat, for Melissa had returned and almost 
reached Alexandria again by this time. 

It was well he had not lingered longer in the 
desert, for on reaching th^ city he was met 
with the startling news of tidings having reached 
Alexandria that Lycinius, the last of the Cesars 
who ruled jointly with Constantine, had again 
taken up arms against his brother-in-law and 
colleague, and that another war was impending. 

“I am not greatly surprised,” said Quad* 
ratus, “ for he hateth the Christians, it is well 
known, and would commence another persecu- 
tion if he only had the power. I must hasten 
to Byzantium with all speed,” he added, “for 
although the war with the Goths was only just 
over when I came here, our soldiers will be 
ready enough to strike a blow at this last enemy 
of the Church.” 

“The last enemy!” repeated Lucullus with 
something of a smile. “ Nay, nay, Lycinius is 
by no means the last enemy; and if we are to 
have such riots as this we have had lately, we 
had better return to the old gods and the games 
of the arena again, for it injures trade and 
brings discredit upon our city to have such 
disturbances.” 


At Nicea. 


79 


“ But thou canst not charge the Christians 
with this riot,” said Quadratus ; “the Jews and 
the followers of the old gods were the chief 
aggressors, and — ” 

“ But this Christianity was the cause,” said 
Lucullus quickly, “ and it is damaging trade.” 

Anxious to turn the conversation, Quadratus 
asked when the next vessel would sail for By- 
zantium, and on hearing .that one would leave 
the following day he determined to go by that, 
and charged Lucullus still to prosecute his in- 
quiries concerning Placidia, as he was by no 
means so sure that she had died as Melissa was, 
or that she had found an asylum in the desert 
as Orestes supposed. 

By the time Quadratus had reached Byzan- 
tium the army, led by Constantine himself, was 
ready to take the field, and the guard of the 
labarum had already been summoned to rally 
round the sacred banner, that should once more 
lead them on to victory. These fifty guards, 
whose duty it was to march with the ensign at 
the head of the troops and lead them on the 
foremost in the battle, were by every body 
considered invulnerable ; and officers and men 
pressed on in the rear of the sacred shadow of 
that long pike with its transversal beam and 
silken vail which hung from the cross-piece. 


8o 


Qqadratus. 

aad which was inwrought with the images of 
the emperor and his family, and surmounted by 
a cross of gold, which might be seen gleaming 
above all surrounding objects. 

Every soldier had a cross emblazoned upon 
his shield, for by this had their emperor con- 
quered in every battle ; and it had been revealed 
to him in a miraculous v^ion as a weapon and 
defense by which he should conquer — at least 
that was his own account of its adoption, and 
miracles were readily credited in those days. 
But there were many, doubtless, who thought 
Constantine’s victories might be accounted for 
by his energy, promptitude, and the good dis- 
cipline of his army ; and thought him a far-see- 
ing politician, in patronizing this rising power 
of Christianity which his predecessors had tried 
in vain to crush out. « 

With hymns and shouts of Alleluia the well- 
disciplined troops marched forth once more — 
not this time against Goths and barbarians but 
brothers and comrades in arms, for they had 
once fought side by side against a common foe. 
But the army of Lycinius had grown indolent 
and self-indulgent from a long peace, and when 
at length they met on the plains of Adrianople, 
a few miles from Byzantium — Christian against 
pagan — the battle was a decisive one. The 


At Nicea. 


8i 


army of Lycinius was completely routed, and 
he himself was killed afterward — a murder that 
must always stain the memory of Constantine. 

This war was not a long one, and it left Con- 
stantine sole master of the vast Roman empire, 
in gratitude for which he now ordered that 
many of the old temples of the gods, which of 
course belonged to the State, should be handed 
over to the Christians, as that was now the 
national religion. 

But the emperor’s troubles were not quite at 
an end. A rebellion broke out in his favored 
city of Byzantium, and before it could be quelled 
the old town was completely destroyed. The 
situation of this ancient city was too favorable, 
however, to be deserted, for it commanded an 
important trade between the east and west ; 
and the only half-subdued empire of the East 
could be awed into submission by the emperor 
fixing upon this as his capital, while, at the 
same time, he could have an eye upon Rome, 
which was now too effete to cause him much 
anxiety, although it retained something of its 
old form of a senate. 

The ruins were, therefore, quickly cleared 
away, and treasures of marble, and porphyry 
statues and columns,. were soon brought from 
all parts of the empire to build and embellish a 


82 


Quadratus. 


city worthy of the first Christian emperor, and 
to be called after his name. 

Peace having now been restored to the world 
at large, Constantine resolved to make another 
effort toward restoring peace to the Church by 
the calling of a general council of bishops, to 
meet at Nicea, in Nicomedia, during the summer 
of this year, 325, and Quadratus began to look 
forward to this, as he would hear of his friends 
in Alexandria from the bishop and the deacons 
who would accompany him. 

Every town and village in the empire was 
busy with festive preparations this spring, for 
Constantine would celebrate his victory over 
Lycinius, and it was likewise customary for 
the Roman emperors to observe each tenth 
year of their reign as a season of rejoicing, and 
this being the twentieth year of Constantine’s 
reign, and, moreover, the first general council 
of the Church which had met since the time of 
the apostles, every body was looking forward 
with eager anticipation to the arrival of the 
visitors in the little town of Nicea, nestling at 
the foot of the hills of Nicomedia. 

Constantine was anxious to do his guests all 
honor, and came here himself first to see that 
his palace was in complete order, and that the 
stadium, where the assembly would first meet. 


At Nicea. 


83 


was ready to receive them ; and he was well- 
pleased to see that every portico along the 
straight streets of the square-built town had 
been cleaned and furbished, as well as every 
heathen device removed from the stadium. 

t 

Quadratus was left behind when Constantine 
went back to see that all his arrangements for 
the comfort of his expected guests were duly 
carried out, and that each bishop might have 
the attendance of three slaves if they had not 
brought their own with them. 

The first to arrive were two from Upper 
Egypt, Paphnutius and Potamon, and Quad- 
ratus stepped forward to greet them as they 
alighted from their mules. No daintily-dressed 
bishops were these, for more than half their 
lives had been spent as hermits in the desert, 
whither they had been driven by the last se- 
vere persecution under Dioclesian, and they 
still wore the rough sheep-skin cloak without 
sleeves, and their hair and beards were an un- 
kempt, tangled mass. But it was not this that 
made Quadratus start from them with such a 
look of horror and the next minute fall upon 
his knees and reverently kiss the edge of their 
dirty sheep-skin cloaks, for he had been used 
to see such neglected toilets very often in the 
desert, but never before had he met with any 


84 


Quadratus. 


so disfigured as these two bishops, for the right 
eye of each had been dug out and the cavity all 
round seared with a red-hot iron. In addition 
to this Paphnutius was lame, having had his 
left leg ham-strung in the same persecution. 

No wonder the people came out, not only to 
look at but to weep over and almost worship 
the two old men who had so bravely suffered 
for Christ, as they sat under the shadow of the 
porticoes near the stadium and talked over this 
world’s wonder — the gathering of a council of 
bishops under the presidency of a Roman 
emperor. 

Each day brought a fresh arrival now, and 
one of the earliest, as he was also the first in 
dignity, was Custathius, of Antioch — the “ City of 
God ” as it was usually called. With him came 
the Bishop of Cesarea, Eusebius, the interpret- 
er, and chaplain of Constantine, and to -whom, 
as the father of ecclesiastical history, we are in- 
debted for the account of this council. Euse- 
bius, however, was shy of the Egyptian bishops, 
and, in spite of their being confessors, sought 
the company of the more polite and learned, 
and it began to be whispered that he had failed 
in the hour of trial, and had escaped a like muti- 
lation by sacrificing to the popular gods. 

But he was high in the emperor’s favor now. 


At Nicea. 


85 


and could afford to smile at the reverence with 
which some of the fruit-sellers and market- 
women treasured a stray scrap of their old gar- 
ments as some precious relic, for he was sought 
by each of the new arrivals, who was anxious 
to learn the bent of the emperor’s mind on the 
subject in dispute. 

Paphnutius, however, was not the only one 
who “ bore in his body the marks of the Lord 
Jesus.” Paul of Neocesarea had both hands 
paralyzed, from the fingers being scorched with 
hot irons ; and of the three hundred and eighteen 
who at length assembled, there were scarcely 
fifty who were not partially maimed, halt, or 
blind, from the sufferings they had endured in 
the cause of their Master. 

With a council composed of such men, was 
it likely that any doctrine touching the honor 
of their Master would be allc^wed to receive their 
assent, however anxious Constantine might be 
to secure peace. 

Arius himself, with his friend Eusebius, of 
Nicomedia, was one of the last to arrive ; but 
one glance at the man was sufficient to see 
that he was as thoroughly in earnest as any of 
his opponents, and as little likely to concede to 
the emperor’s views if they involved a giving 
up of his opinions. There were others besides 
(5 


86 Quadratus. 

the Bishop of Nicomedia who favored him, and 
he would stand in the midst of this little crowd 
of disciples and pour out a torrent of fiery elo- 
quence in sLip'port of his views that threatened 
to bear down all opposition. Towering above 
the tallest of these, and swaying his thin, 
emaciated body backward and forward, while 
his face lighted sometimes with a smile of rare 
sweetness and gentleness, or contracted by a 
frown of fierce denunciation, he alternately 
persuaded or threatened his hearers, sometimes 
growing so enthusiastic as to indulge in a 
frenzied dance, that made many not accustomed 
to him suppose he was mad. 

Quadratus began to fear that some accident 
must have befallen the Bishop of Alexandria 
and his party. He was the chief opponent to 
Arius, and many wondered how he would meet 
his former presbyter and deacon, for these good 
men were only human after all, and many ot 
them nursed private quarrels and grudges 
against each other, and were as eager to tell 
of each other’s faults and failings as the rest 
of mankind. 

Alexander, with his chief deacon, Athanasius, 
and their attendant slaves, reached the city at 
last, after a perilous voyage by sea and a weari- 
some journey by land. Alexander himself, now 


At Nicea. 


87 


very aged, and growing more feeble every 
month, was quite exhausted, and only his friend 
Hosius, of Cordova, was admitted to his presence 
for several days. 

At length the whole number invited hav- 
ing either arrived or sent representatives, they 
^ere gathered together in the stadium for their 
first formal meeting, to seek the blessing of 
God upon their deliberations, after which they 
met in the porticoes, or in the gardens on the 
shore of the little lake, and waited the coming 
of the emperor, who was to open the council in 
person. Constantine wisely delayed his arrival 
for some days, to allow these men of such varied 
attainments and experience to meet each other 
in open, friendly, informal discussion, and state 
their own peculiar views concerning this matter 
that threatened to destroy the peace of the 
Church. Of course each had his own [ieculiar 
reason for assent or dissent from Arius’ doctrine, 
and, looked at from so many different stand- 
points, it bore so many different shades that it 
was even possible that instead of making peace 
this council might make matters worse unless 
its affairs were wisely managed ; and when Quad- 
ratus saw how fierce these disputants were — 
each for his own view of the subject being right, 
and the only right one — he began to despair of 


88 


Quadratus. 


peace and harmony ever being evolved out of 
such discordant elements. 

“ I would rather fight ten battles than preside 
at a council of bishops,” he exclaimed one day 
half aloud — loud enough for one of them to hear 
him speak, but who as yet had taken no very 
active part in the discussion, although if his 
mental powers bore any resemblance to his 
physical frame he would bear down all before 
him, for he was a perfect giant. He laughed 
aloud as he saw the young soldiers look of 
perplexity, but he could not speak a word of 
Greek, and only the Latin tongue imperfectly, 
for he was a Goth — perhaps the first among 
the Teutons who had ever risen to the dignity 
of being a servant of God. 

Finding Quadratus could converse a little in 
his own barbarian tongue, the giant bishop, The- 
ophilus, entered into a conversation with him con- 
cerning his hopes of one of his deacons, Ulphilas, 
becoming a missionary to the wild tribes of 
his countrymen in the north. Theophilus had 
little sympathy, it seemed, with the abstruse 
subject they had met to decide either one way 
or the other. He was anxious to win his coun- 
trymen from the worship of Thor and Odin to 
the service of Jesus Christ, and to point out to 
them that the Asgard they dreamed of, and 


At Nicea. 


89 


hoped to find in the countries of the South, 
was not all a dream, but that there was a king- 
dom where the spirits of just men made perfect 
would dwell with God forever — a kingdom “ not 
made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” 

One da)^ a party of learned prelates were grow- 
ing quite warm over the disputed subject, and 
Theophilus and Quadratus proportionably weary, 
when a simple-minded hermit, who had drawn 
near to hear what was said, suddenly rose to 
his feet and exclaimed, “Christ and the apostles 
left us not a system of logic, but a naked truth, 
to be guarded by faith and good works ! ” These 
words were not without effect on the angry 
bishops, and by degrees they grew more calm, 
and soon learned to see that the difference in the 
views held by them and many of their seeming 
opponents only existed in form and the use of 
words and not in actual fact, and thus many 
opposing elements were drawn together before 
the emperor came to open the council. 


90 


Quadratus. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE FIRST COUNCIL. 

HE arrival of the emperor at his temporary 



A palace of Nicea put an end to the prelimi- 
nary meetings of the bishops, and they were 
summoned to meet in the large central hall of 
the palace, where chairs had been placed for the 
bishops, and a seat behind each for his attend- 
ant presbyter or deacon. Many of them had 
never yet seen the emperor, and there were a 
few minutes of anxious suspense before the 
guards approached who were to herald his com- 
ing. No heathen, however high his rank might 
be, was allowed to enter the presence of these 
men of God ; but Quadratus and a few of his 
Christian friends took their place at the back 
of the raised gilt chair which had been placed 
at the upper end for the emperor, and the next 
moment a cursor raised a torch at the entrance, 
on which all the bishops rose to receive the 
emperor. 

Constantine was of majestic height and bear- 
ing, with a handsome face of mingled sweetness 
and fierceness, that betokened his character 


The First Council. gi 

most clearly. His long flowing robe of imperial 
purple blazed with gold and jewels, and his long 
fair hair, falling upon his shoulders, was sur- 
mounted with a diadem of pearls. But in spite 
of his magnificence, and the almost unlimited 
power he now enjoyed as absolute master of 
that vast empire, he came in with almost the 
humility of a little child, and walking to the 
chair of state, remained standing before it until 
the bishops had all taken their seats again. He 
must have been very deeply touched, too, as he 
looked round and saw so many martyr-confess- 
ors in the assembly, and yet he knew that faith- 
ful and earnest as they might be they were still 
fallible men, and by no means perfect, or the 
numbers of letters he had received from them 
would never have been written. He now drew 
them from under his mantle, and laid them on 
the desk before him — a large pile of parchment 
rolls — and then sent one of the guards for a 
brazier. 

When it was brought he laid them upon the 
burning coals, and while they were being con- 
sumed he turned to the assembly and opening 
wide his robe he said, “ My friends, if I saw one 
of you committing a fault I would cover him 
with my mantle lest the others should see it 
likewise, for it behoveth us not to cause scan- 


92 


Quadratus. 


dais and dissensions by our quarrels. I have 
burned these letters, and I would that the 
causes of them were buried, that your delibera- 
tions here may be for the peace of the empire 
and the ruling faithfully Christ’s holy Church.” 

He then delivered a long address in Latin, 
which was translated into Greek, as many of 
those present did not understand Latin, and 
then the council was declared to be open, and 
each was invited to express his views. The 
Bishop of Alexandria was one of the first to 
speak, which, of course, brought a retort from 
Arius, and he might have borne down every 
argument of the feeble old man but for his little 
insignificant-looking deacon, Athanasius. He 
had not been noticed until he spoke ; but no 
one was likely to forget him again. Arius was 
foiled at every point by his trenchant little ad- 
versary; and the young deacon made more 
friends and more enemies in one day than it 
often falls to a man’s lot to make in a life-time. 

The Council was continued from day to day, 
for neither side was willing to give up its 
opinion, and even the presence of the emperor 
hardly kept the indignation within bounds when 
the Thalia of Arius was produced and some of 
its songs read. Some put their fingers into 
their ears and closed their eyes in horror ; while 


The First Council. 


93 


one good man went so far as to step up to 
Arius and box his ears, while there was a uni- 
versal cry for his excommunication. 

He was banished from the council at once ; 
and then, when some degree of quietness had 
been restored, a creed as the exponent of the 
belief of the Church was submitted to the 
Council, and after a good deal of discussion and 
various modifications, the following creed was 
adopted as the rule of faith : — 

“ We believe in one God the Father Al- 
mighty, Maker of all things visible and invis- 
ible ; and in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of 
God, begotten of the Father, Only-begotten, 
-that is of the substance of the Father ; God of 
God ; Light of Light ; Life of Life ; very God 
of very God ; begotten, not made ; of the same 
substance with the Father ; by whom all things 
were made, both things in heaven and things 
in earth ; who for us men and our salvation 
descended and became flesh, and was made man, 
suffered, and rose again the third day. He 
ascended into heaven ; he cometh to judge the 
quick and dead. And in the Holy Ghost. But 
those that say there was a time when he was 
not ; or that he was not before he was begot- 
ten ; or that he was made from that which hath 
no being ; or who affirm the Son of God to be 


94 


Quadratus. 


of any other substance or essence, or created, 
or variable, or mutable, such persons doth the 
Catholic and Apostolic Church anathematize.” 

“ I am disappointed ! ” was the first exclama- 
tion of Quadratus to his friend, the giant bishop 
from the North. 

He looked his surprise. “ Disappointed ! ” he 
repeated in his own Teutonic language. 

‘'Yes, I am disappointed in that the Church . 
hath undertaken the task of cursing any man. 
She will turn persecutor next, and forget her 
high mission of teaching all men the love of 
God and the grace of Christ our Saviour.” 

“ It is a high mission, truly,” said the Goth ; 

“ and if I could only know that my country- 
men would receive the message I could die 
content. I have little need of creeds or anath- 
emas yet,” he added, “ for I can only teach the 
first lessons of faith in God ; but by and by, 
perhaps — ” 

“Na)^ nay,” interrupted Quadratus; “the 
world will never be the better for these anath- 
emas. The work of the Church is to bless ; we 
soldiers can curse and fight. Is the Council 
now closed.?” he asked, for he was anxious to 
have some conversation with Athanasius before 
his return, and he had been so actively engaged 
hitherto, that any thing beyond the disputed 


The First ConnciL 95 

question of Arianisrn was out of the question 
at present. • 

“ Nay, the Council meets again to-morrow to 
discuss the question of whether it is meet and 
right for a bishop to take a wife, or whether 
marriage is not unlawful in such as give them- 
selves to the preaching of the Gospel.” 

“ What ! would they have the whole world 
a huge monastery then ? Truly these holy 
fathers have a zeal without knowledge ; and if 
they take not good heed the Church will be 
injured rather than strengthened by such 
Councils.” 

“ Nay, nay, but thou knowest it has not be- 
come law yet ; some will doubtless oppose this 
measure, although the hermit-bishops will doubt- 
less favor it.” 

In this, however, the Gothic bishop was mis- 
taken, for as soon as it was proposed the her- 
mit-bishop, Paphnutius, rose from his seat and 
limped to the middle of the hall. Turning his 
disfigured face toward the emperor, and looking 
round upon the assembly, he exclaimed, “ Lay 
not this heavy burden upon the clergy. Mar- 
riage is honorable in all, as St. Paul himself 
declares and the words thus spoken, by such 
a man, was sufficient to set the matter aside for 
that time, at least. 


96 


Quadratus. 

This question being settled, and the creed 
signed and delivered to the emperor, the Coun- 
cil broke up, and its members began to prepare 
for their homeward journey. Some were anx- 
ious to stay at Rome on the way, for the bishop, 
Sylvester, had been too ill to attend the Coun- 
cil, being represented there by two presbyters. 
This had likewise been the case with Alexander 
of Byzantium, so that neither of the rival cities 
had taken a very active part in this Council. 

The Bishop of Alexandria, with his arch- 
deacon, and their small retinue of slaves, were 
anxious to cross the. sea before the autumn 
storms rendered the passage dangerous, and so 
Quadratus obtained leave to accompany them 
on their journey to the now half-ruinous Byzan- 
tium, where they would embark in one of the 
corn ships returning to Alexandria. 

At the first opportunity Quadratus, of course, 
asked about his sister and her husband. “ Thou 
sayest Placidia hath not been heard of yet,” he 
said ; “ dost thou know whether Lucullus hath 
made any further inquiries lately 

“ He sent to his agents at Rome and here in 
Byzantium ; for if, as thou fearest, the Jews had 
carried her off, they would take her to a slave- 
market as far distant from her home as possi- 
ble, lest she should be recovered.” 


The First Council. 


97 


“ Then thou dost think that all hope of find- 
ing her is at an end now/’ said Quadratus, look- 
ing into the young deacon’s face as though he 
would read his answer in his features. 

./^thanasius shook his head. “ I begin to 
think Melissa is right,” he said ; “ if she were • 
living we should have heard of her I am sure.” 

“ If I could feel sure she was with my mother 
in heaven my mind would be at rest,” said 
Quadratus with a sigh ; “ but it is the uncer- 
tainty — the suspense — the possibility that she 
may be suffering in mind and body, that causes 
me so much anxiety.” 

Athanasius could not reply, for the mule on 
which he was riding being suddenly seized with 
a fit of obstinacy refused to move an inch fur- 
ther ; and Quadratus, who preferred walking at 
all times when it was possible, was about to 
apply the persuasive force of a good stout stick 
which he carried, when a train of bullock wag- 
ons appeared a short distance behind them, and 
the drivers began bawling lustily for them to 
clear the road. 

The slaves, who did not understand much of 
what was said, stood looking helplessly at the 
bishop and deacon ; but Quadratus, who saw 
that the road must be cleared for the wagons to 
pass, ordered them to lead the bishop’s mule on 


98 


Quadratus. 


until they could find a nook in the narrow road 
where they could wait*. Athanasius then got 
down, and tried his skill at leading his own 
beast, but neither blows nor coaxing would in- 
duce him to move, and then the party stoo^l in 
'the middle of the road, the slaves and the bishop 
only a little in advance, when the drivers of the 
wagons came up to them. 

“ Why dost thou not move the beast out of 
the way ? knowest thou not we are at work for 
the emperor } ” shouted one. 

“ Constantine’s business can’t stand still for 
a lazy — ” but there the man paused, and gazed 
at Athanasius with a look of awe. 

“ My friends, we too have been busy about 
the concerns of the emperor,” said Quadratus, 
anxious to avoid a dispute with these men ; “ we 
are now on our way to Byzantium, having been 
to the Council at Nicea.” 

But at the word council the men dropped 
their ox-goads and fell on their knees before 
them. “Ye are two of the great bishops whom 
the emperor hath commanded all men to help 
forward, and whom this great God of the Chris- 
tians hath given power to work miracles greater 
than those performed by Jupiter himself,” and 
they reverently kissed the hem of Athanasius’ 
garment as they spoke. 


The First Council. 


99 


“Nay, I am no bishop,'’ said Quadratiis with 
a smile ; “ and as for the miracles that have 
been performed, who told thee of them?” 

“ Those who witnessed them,” said one of the 
wagoners. “ But we pray thee hinder us not, 
for we are bearing great treasures of marble 
and porphyry to build the new Byzantium, for 
the emperor is in great haste to have it rebuilt.” 

“ We will not hinder thee longer than to 
move this obstinate mule out of the road,” said 
Quadratiis ; “ and if thou wilt lend us thine aid 
doubtless he may soon be brought to a more 
tractable state.” 

But instead of taking hold of the mule the 
men drew further back, slowly shaking their 
heads. They were not willing to hold the head 
of even a beast ridden by a bishop. True, they 
had been baptized, and went to church as often 
as they could. They had received their white 
baptismal robe and twenty gold pieces as a gift 
from the emperor, but they would not draw too 
near a bishop, who might turn them into mules 
where they stood as easily as they could restore 
one to life, and this one of them had done on 
his way to this same Council, they had been 
solemnly assured. In vain Quadratus protest- 
ed that they were in possession of no such su- 
pernatural power, and that neither of them was 


100 Quadratus. 

a bishop, he having gone on before. Still the 
men held back. 

“ Dost thou think if we possessed the power 
thou sayest we should stand here so long trying 
to make this beast move by means of a stick in 
the same way that ye would ? ” asked the young 
soldier, beginning to lose his patience. 

The men shook their heads but still looked 
unconvinced. 

At last Quadratus took refuge in the orders 
issued by the emperor, and which had been 
publicly proclaimed in every town through 
which the travelers were likely to pass. “ If 
thou dost not help us forward in this difficulty 
thou wilt be guilty of breaking the law of the 
empire,” he said ; “ and 1 will tell ye now that 
I am one of the emperor’s guard.” 

Consternation, fear, and awe, mingled with a 
desire to obey their emperor’s command, was 
plainly visible in the face of each ; but they 
drew near the mule, and a few touches from 
their experienced hands were quite enough to 
set the obstinate brute in motion ; but Athana- 
sius had walked on to join the bishop, for the 
poor old man was easily alarmed at any thing 
of this kind, and so Quadratus led the mule 
himself, and the wagons came slowly after- 
ward. 


The First Council. 


lOI 


He could not refrain from laughing when he 
related all that had passed to Athanasius, for 
although he had witnessed most of the affair he 
could not understand much of what the wag- 
oner had said. 

“ Who could have spread such a tale as this 
concerning our power of performing miracles ! ” 
exclaimed the bishop. 

“ It is mere idle gossip,” said Athanasius ; 
these men have heard something they know 
not what, and have made up this story about 
the mule being raised to life.” 

“ Their reverence for the clergy is real 
enough — too real, I think,” observed the soldier 
seriously. 

“ Too real ! ” repeated Athanasius. 

‘‘Yes, it is only equaled by their ignorance, 
which is the sole excuse for it. God is only in 
their minds evidently another name for Jupiter, 
and I suppose they may be taken as a fair sam- 
ple of those to whom our emperor presents a 
white robe and twenty gold pieces as a bap- 
tismal gift. Twenty thousand men, besides 
women and children, received this gift last year. 
But dost thou think these are such Christians 
as gathered in the caves of the desert or an 
empty fruit boat on the Nile during the times 

of Diocletian } ” 

7 


102 Quadratus. 

‘‘And wouldst thou have those times over 
again ? ” asked Athanasius. 

“ God forbid ! but this I would say, the 
Church is not so prosperous that we can afford 
to quarrel over logical disquisitions ; and the 
broad mark of separation that is arising be- 
tween the clergy and their flocks is to be re- 
gretted. It was not so in the old days. Then 
the minister was the servant of all, and the 
brother of all ; but now he is looked at with su- 
perstitious awe by the ignorant, and makes him- 
self a lord over God’s heritage.” 

“ There is truth in what thou dost say, Quad- 
ratus,” assented the young deacon ; and the 
whole party fell into a thoughtful silence. 


The Prefect of Carthage. 


103 


CHAPTER VIIL 

THE PREFECT OF CARTHAGE. 

T he noonday sun was pouring down its 
fierce rays upon the streets of Carthage, 
an important city still although an appanage of 
Rome, and scarcely less splendid than when she 
sent forth her brave sons under Hannibal to 
dispute the sovereignty of the world with her 
(now) Roman mistress. Nearly five hundred 
years had passed since she stooped her proud 
neck beneath the yoke ; but in art, and learn- 
ing, and commerce, she was almost as flourish- 
ing under a Roman prefect as under her former 
rulers. 

The grain of mustard seed, from which sprang 
the tree whose branches now spread over the 
empire, had early found a lodgment in Carthage, 
and persecutions had prevailed there as well as 
every-where else. But under Constantine no 
prefect who was known to have been a perse- 
cutor could hope to retain his post, and most of 
these officers found it conducive to their tem- 
poral advancement to become Christians, in 


104 


Quadratus. 


name at least, and to secure the favor and patron- 
age of the bishops at all costs. 

Victor, the prefect of Carthage, was one who 
professed a great love for the new national 
faith, and a reverence for the bishop, Cecil ius, 
that nothing could equal, and certainly he had 
shown him every possible attention, and him- 
self accompanied him to the place of embarka- 
tion when he left the city to attend the Council. 
He was now returning from this short journey, 
tired, hot, and dusty, cursing himself for his 
folly in going. 

“ Carthage is free now to disport herself as 
she pleaseth for a few weeks or months at least, 
and we will let the old gods see that they are 
not quite forgotten, and the people shall know 
what life is once more,” Victor said to his friend 
as they entered the palace and called for wine 
and the dice-board. 

“ Thou dost forget the monks and deacons, 
and all the motley crew of the parabolani the 
old man hath left behind.” 

“ I care not for them now that I am free of 
Cecilius. It is not often I can do as I like, 
and I mean not to miss the present opportunity. 
I have a tiger in the vi vivarium, and we will 
have him out with a few of the old gladiators if 
they have not quite forgotten the use of the 


105 


The Prefect of Carthage. 

sword. Then we will have one of the old plays 
in the theater, “ Venus Rising from the Sea,” or 
something of the same kind, just to remind the 
people of what used to be before monks and 
bishops ruled the world.” 

His companion rubbed his hands delightedly. 
“ Thou art a bold fellow, Victor,” he said, “ but 
be careful not to go too far.” 

“Trust my sagacity for that. Thou seest 
the present time affords me such an excellent 
opportunity and excuse too. The emperor 
celebrates the twentieth year of his reign next 
month ; what more natural than that they should 
insist upon going to the basilica and worship 
before the Augustenium, where the Cesars are 
enshrined. From the Augustenium to the am- 
phitheater is but a short step, and the rest will 
follow as a matter of course, I yielding reluc- 
tantly to the popular demand in order to prevent 
a tumult.” 

“Victor, thou oughtest to be emperor of 
Africa instead of prefect of Carthage,” said his 
friend admiringly ; “ it is all so very cleverly 
conceived and arranged. But surely, if thou 
dost take so much trouble to please the people, 
thou art going to allow thyself a little liberty in 
the matter of pleasures,” he added. 

“To be sure I am, and thou canst make it 


io6 Quadratus. 

known, my friend, among all thy acquaintance, 
that the prefect is blind to any breach of the 
strict rules laid down by Cecilius concerning 
the conduct of their entertainments. By the 
way, I heard that an old Jewess came into the 
city last night with a fresh lot of girls — quite 
choice samples in their way — picked up in all 
the fashionable slave-markets of the empire.” 

“ She will ask an extravagant price for them; 
these Jews always do.” 

“ They are hard at driving a bargain ; but I 
shall send for her, and look at her slaves 
without telling her I am wishing to purchase 
any.” 

“ As if she would not be cunning enough to 
find it out for herself and charge thee accord- 
ingly.” 

“ Very well, then, I must squeeze it out of 
the people — put a tax upon fresh melons or 
some trifle, for I mean to have two or three 
more slaves, and enjoy myself while I can ; ” 
and as he spoke he languidly adjusted his 
flower crown, and threw the dice upon the 
board. 

“ I wonder what the old woman would ask 
for a fine girl of seventeen, who had never been 
into the markets,” he said presently. 

“ If she had one, thou meanest.” 


The Prefect of Carthage. 107 

“ O ! she is sure to have one — at least I will 
ask her.” 

“ Better send at once, then, or somebody 
else may get her,” suggested his friend, who saw 
he was likely to lose the stakes if the game was 
continued. 

“ I think I will,” lazily responded the prefect ; 
and sending a slave for parchment and a papyrus 
reed, he soon wrote a letter, commanding the Jew- 
ess to bring some of her human chattels to his 
palace the next morning for his inspection. This 
was sent by another slave, who was directed to 
inquire of the guard who had command of the 
Jewish quarter where the old woman had gone 
to lodge. 

There was little difficulty in finding old Deb- 
orah ; and the slave presented the letter and 
received her assurances that she would be at his 
excellency’s palace early in the morning to re- 
ceive his commands in person, and then the 
withered old hag hobbled into a side passage, 
and taking a key from her girdle unlocked the 
door of a large room where some twenty girls 
of all ages and all countries were sitting, lying, 
or walking about. There was a fair-haired girl 
from the far-off barbarous Britain, learning a 
lesson in Greek from a proud, haughty-looking 
Alexandrian. 


io8 Quadratus. 

“ Placidia, thou wilt not leave me/‘ she whis- 
pered. “ Thou hast taught me about thy God, 
but I shall forget him, and think only of our 
forest spirits and the Druids if thou dost go 
away.” 

“ God will take care of thee, my Imogene,” said 
her companion as the old woman drew near 
to where they were sitting. 

“ Come, now, girls, see if ye cannot play a 
merry tune, and have a dance to amuse old 
Deborah ; for there is little enough going on in 
the streets since these accursed Nazarenes got 
the upper hand in the world,” and she darted 
an angry look at the two, who drew closer into 
the corner at her approach. 

The room was furnished with divans on 
either side, and the old woman seated herself 
on one of these, while one of the girls fetched 
a double flute from a pedestal standing near, 
and soon commenced a soft, dreamy tune, 
while her companions commenced a slow-meas- 
ured dance, delicate tinklings of the silver bells 
on their wrists and ankles keeping time with 
the flute. 

“ There, now, a little quicker,” said the old 
woman. “ We shall have a merry time yet, 
my girls, for the old Nazarene bishop hath 
gone to this gathering of monks,” and again 


The Prefect of Carthage. 109 

she darted a look of triumph toward the two in 
the corner. 

As the dancing grew quicker and more lively 
the old woman signified her approval by clap- 
ping her hands, and then some wine was 
fetched and handed round to all but the two in 
the corner, who seemed thankful to be thus 
ignored. By degrees the dancers drew farther 
away from them, until at last Imogene ventured 
to speak once more. 

“ Placidia, thou wilt not let them take me 
from thee,” she said. 

“ I will take care of thee as long as I can ; 
but didst thou not hear, the bishop hath gone 
away to that — that — O ! my Imogene, my last 
hope of rescue hath failed, and it was with 
difficulty the poor girl restrained her sobs. 

“Hush, hush, old Deborah will hear thee,” 
whispered her companion, “and it cannot be 
thy last hope, for God is here in Carthage, and 
he will take care of us, will he not 

Imogene asked the question very anxiously, 
and seemed at a loss to understand her com- 
panion’s distress, for Placidia had taught her 
that the great God was always near to help his 
children in every time of trouble, and she had 
believed it most implicitly. For Placidia, there- 
fore, to be so cast down because the Bishop of 


I 10 


Quadratus. 


Carthage was absent, was a puzzle to the simple 
young Briton, but, at length, she said, “ Is it, 
my Placidia, that God hath gone away with the 
bishop that thou art in such sorrow?” 

“ No, God is here still,” answered Placidia. 

Then we are safe ; we must be, thou know- 
est, for he is our refuge and strength, and he 
will deliver us and take care of us.” Imogene 
put her arms around Placidia’s neck, and whis- 
pered to her the words she had learned from 
her lips, and in that hour of darkness she ex- 
perienced the truth of that promise, “ He that 
watereth shall be watered also himself,” for 
Imogene helped her to rest upon the help and 
protection of God once more, so that when she 
repeated her question, “ Will not God take care 
of us?” she was able to say with confidence, 
“Yes, dear child, he will. He is ever faithful 
to his promises. But I am faithless, Imogene — 
as faithless now as I was proud before.” 

“ Wert thou proud ? Wert thou a lady in 
Alexandria ? ” asked the girl. 

“ Yes, but it was not of that I was proud, but 
of being the daughter of a martyr and the sister 
of a hermit, and I resolved to become a nun, 
and leave the world to live in the desert, that 
men might talk of my holiness as they often 
talked of theirs.” 


The Prefect of Carthage. 1 1 1 

“And thou didst go to the desert/' said 
Imogene. 

“ Nay, but my mother wished me to stay with 
her and so I submitted, but not very willingly, 
and shut myself up in the tower alone. When 
my brother, who is one of the emperor’s guards, 
came to visit us I refused to see him at first, 
for I thought he was of the world I had re- 
nounced ; and when, at the request of my mother, 
I did consent to see him, I treated him so cold- 
ly, that poor Quadratus was sorely grieved about 
it, I know. After that interview, at which he 
parted with me in much anger, I only saw him 
once, and that was on the dreadful day of the 
riot. He fetched me down to the inner court, 
where my mother was lying, and bade me watch 
beside her while he guarded the ^oor with the 
slaves ; but he had scarcely left us before my 
mother opened her eyes for a moment and 
looked at me, and the next minute death had 
closed them forever. Then there was a noise 
of fighting that I scarcely observed until one of 
the slaves ran in and told me that Quadratus 
had been killed, and before I could move a 
party of Jews followed him, and I was hurried 
away, quite unconscious of where I was taken.” 

“ And thou hast never been to Alexandria 
since ? ” asked Imogene in a low voice. 


I 12 Quadratus. 

“ Nay, it was not likely they would take me 
to where my friends would be sure to find me. 
These Jews are too clever, and play into each 
other’s hands too much to allow their victims 
any chance of escape. I have been passed from 
one to another and taken from place to place, 
so that it would be impossible for any trace to 
be discovered even if my sister should try,” 
added Placidia with a sigh. 

This hope, which at first had been indulged, 
was fast dying away now, and her only chance 
of escape was in appealing to the bishop of one 
of the cities ; and she had hoped this visit to 
Carthage would afibrd her the opportunity she 
so anxiously longed for. 

The next morning they were awakened early 
to dress iheryselves with all care, to be in readi- 
ness for the prefect. Placidia and Imogene 
were obliged to put on the white linen tunics 
and silver ornaments like the rest, and neither 
of them could help looking very pretty as they 
stood side by side, presenting such a striking 
contrast as they did. Imogene, with her deli- 
cate, fair skin, and her bright, golden hair, and 
Placidia, with her wealth of raven curls and 
dark flashing eyes — almost defiant they had 
grown lately — for, slave though she was, neither 
of her owners had been able to bend her to 


The Prefect of Carthage. 1 1 3 

their will, and Deborah, even now, was secretly 
uneasy about the issue of this transaction. 

“ She will be worth all the trouble, certainly, 
if I can sell her to this prefect, for she will 
bring a nice round sum in gold pieces, she is 
such a splendid girl,” muttered the old woman 
as she adjusted her turban preparatory to going 
out. 

She was going to the palace by herself first, 
for she was anxious to know her customer be- 
fore introducing her merchandise, for she had 
other things to sell besides slaves. Rare old 
wines of the true Falernian flavor; choice gems, 
that would grace an emperor’s diadem ; silk 
stuffs and shawls, that were fit to wrap the 
daintiest lady ; and poisoned daggers, that would 
speedily end the life of any inconvenient friend 
or foe — all these old Deborah had brought with 
her to Carthage, hoping to drive a good bar- 
gain, but she was not going to let the prefect 
know all this at once. 

Victor, on his part, thought himself quite 
equal in cunning to any old Jewess in the world ; 
and, as soon as she had been ushered into his 
presence, asked what she had brought with her 
to the city. 

“ A few slaves, your excellency ; a very few, 
for I am a poor old woman, as thou mayest see,” 


I 14 Quadratus. 

whined Deborah, displaying her ragged old 
damask robe rather ostentatiously. 

“The Jews always are poor, according to 
their own account, and yet ye contrive to make 
us Christians your debtors pretty often,” said 
the prefect. “ But now about these slaves — 
hast thou any worth looking at } ” 

“ I have two or three from Armenia that 
would suit your excellency,” said the old woman 
humbly. 

“ 1 am tired of Armenians. Hast thou any 
others ? ” 

“ There are just two from Italy — true Roman 
maidens they are.” 

“ Worse and worse,” said the prefect, “ what’s 
the next ? ” 

The old woman shook her head. “ I could 
not recommend the next,” she said, “she hath 
given me so much trouble with her airs about 
being a lady, and an Alexandrian — of course it 
is all false — though she does come of a rare old 
stock, and a haughty one, too, as any may see 
who are skilled in such matters.” 

“Untamed, is she — never been into the 
market before ? ” inquired Victor. 

“ I should like to see the man, Jew or Gen- 
tile, who could make Placidia stand up in any 
market. No, no, Placidia would not suit thee I 


The Prefect of Carthage. 1 1 5 

am sure. There is a little Briton, too, but she 
is nearly as bad, so that I am afraid — ” 

Go and fetch the young Briton and this 
Placidia at once,” interrupted the prefect impe- 
riously ; “ it may be they will suit me after all.” 

The old woman went out shaking her head, 
but internally chuckling over the success of her 
ruse. “ He hath fallen into the trap,” she said 
half aloud, “ and I shall get rid of this Placidia 


now. 


Quadratus. 


1 16 


CHAPTER IX. 

SOMETHING NEW. 

SLAVE ! Placidia looked more like an 



insulted empress as she stood before 
Victor a few hours later, for the old woman had 
succeeded in making a good bargain with him 
and getting rid of her troublesome property. 
She and Imogene had both been disposed of, 
and the prefect was already beginning to repent 
of his bargain, for Placidia was by no means so 
manageable as he thought he could make her. 

“ She looks like a goddess herself,” he ex- 
claimed, when telling some of his friends of his 
first interview with his new slave. “ She dared 
me to approach her, and threatened to inform 
the bishop and call down all the thunders of 
the Church if I ventured too near one who was 
a holy nun.” 

“ A nun, is she ! ” exclaimed one, with a pro- 
longed whistle. “No wonder the old woman 
left Carthage as soon as the bargain was com- 
pleted.” 

*• Why, the Church could not interfere, 
and — ” 


« 



Placidia before the Prefect of Carthafre. 


/ 




I 









Something New. 1 19 

“ I would advise thee not to come to an 
issue with the Church or the bishop either, 
for there is no knowing what they may be 
able to do,” interrupted one of his friends 
warningly. 

“ It is a hard case, I think, that a man can- 
not do as he likes with his own slave,” grumbled 
the prefect. 

“ But if she is a nun — a spouse of Christ, as 
these fanatics would call her^ — they would ques- 
tion thy right to hold her as a slave.” 

“ Nay, but I have the papers, the receipt from 
the old Jewess,” said Victor. 

Ah, but how did this old woman become 
possessed of her.^ Bought her in the regular 
way of trade, thou wilt say ; and the tale might 
do for thee, but it would not do for Cecilian. 
He would hear the girl’s story — where she took 
the vows, and send .to some other bishop to have 
it confirmed or disproved, and then if it should 
be the former, and thou hadst laid a finger 
on the girl, where wouldst thou be with the 
power these Christians have over the emperor’s 
mind } ” 

Victor looked rueful. “ I wish I had never 
seen the girl,” he said uneasily. “ There is the 
little Briton, too — a heap of money those two 

have cost me.” 

8 


120 Quadratus. 

“ The old woman made a good thing of it, I 
have no doubt,” remarked his friend. 

“ She did not want me to have those two,” 
said Victor. 

“ Thou wouldst say she pretended to be un- 
willing, cried them up with one breath and 
down with the next on purpose to edge thee on. 
I know these Jews, I have had dealings with 
them, my Victor, and hate them as cordially as 
they hate us.” 

“ The old woman was civil enough. I don’t 
see why they should hate us,” said the prefect 
sulkily. He was ready to dispute any state- 
ment just now if only for the sake of venting 
his ill humor. 

“ O, she was civil enough, I dare say. I never 
had any thing to complain of on the score of 
civility ; but they hate us none the less, and 
glory in the idea that we are all doomed to 
eternal punishment. Of course she would not 
care whether the girl was a nun or a goddess ; 
Christian and pagan are alike to her, so that she 
makes a good bargain ; but I warn thee, Victor, 
to be careful, for none knows the power of the 
Church now, and, of course, we are all Christians 
too,” he added, with a short laugh. 

The prefect, however, was in no laughing 
mood. “ The obstinacy of this girl will upset 


Something New. 


I2I 


all my plans, for I meant her to be Venus ris- 
ing from the sea, and the little Briton would 
make a splendid sea nymph too ; but now — ” 

“ Better disappoint the people and put up 
with their grumbling than lose thy prefecture, 
and it might come to that if she is a nun.” 

“ I wish there were no nuns ; a man don’t 
know now whether — ” 

Whether he can insult a woman with im- 
punity,” said his companion with a covert sneer. 

But Victor did not notice this. “There 
never was such a fuss made about purity, and 
honor, and virtue in the old days ; a man could 
do as he liked then, but. now — ” 

“ The Church hath stepped in — this new pow- 
er in the State — with new laws and new ideas, 
and one of the greatest of these is that a wom- 
an is no longer to be a man’s toy and slave, 
but sacred as the vestals of Rome if they 
place themselves under the protection of the 
Church.” 

“ Yes, that is just what they have done,” as- 
sented Victor; “and I say it is undue interfer- 
ence with a man’s rights.” 

“ But we shall have to put up with it, never- 
theless. Now tell me what arrangements thou 
hast made with the gladiators, and forget the 
girl.” 


122 QuADRATUS. 

Victor gave him a detailed account of the in- 
terview he had had with the old master of the 
school, and what he had promised on behalf of 
his pupils. “ There will be a fight with the 
cestus, and another with the net and trident. 
I wish I had a couple of criminals for that tiger,” 
he suddenly added. 

“ Criminals seem to be growing scarce, like 
every other luxury in these degenerate days.” 

“ They never are to be had when they are 
wanted,” grumbled the prefect. “ These monks 
go prowling about the streets among the poor 
and sick, feeding and nursing them, and then 
exhorting them to be patient and honest, so that 
our prisons are well-nigh empty at the present 
time.” 

“ And to get up a false charge against any 
body for the sake of a good spectacle would be 
to bring a whole hornet’s nest of monks and 
bishops about our ears.” 

“ Constantine himself would doubtless be in- 
formed of the paltry affair by these meddlers. 
We shall have to give up the criminal I am 
afraid,” sighed Victor, “ and be content with the 
tiger being dispatched by the gladiators. It 
will be a tame affair, I fear,” he added, with 
another sigh of disgust. 

Meanwhile Placidia had been encouraging 


Something New. 123 

her companion to trust in the Lord for deliv- 
erance, although her own heart well-nigh failed 
her now, as she thought of the hopelessness of 
her captivity and the power of the man into 
whose hands she had fallen. She had heard of 
the cruelty and oppression practiced by these 
Roman governors in their irresponsible power, 
that almost made her hair stand on end with 
horror as she recalled them ; but she did not 
tell Imogene any of these stories, for the poor 
girl was already alarmed enough. 

Tf Placidia could only have known the effect 
her declaration of being a nun had had upon 
her master she would have been more hopeful, 
but she was as yet unaware of this new law — 
this new protection that the Church had thrown 
around women — partial and slight in its effects 
it might be, when we consider the magnitude of 
the evil ; but still it was a great step in advance, 
the first step toward the raising of women to a 
higher level, although, perhaps, few perceived 
it in those days. 

“ We have only God to look to for help and 
deliverance now,” said Placidia, “ so let us pray 
to him, my Imogene, for he can deliver us 
from this palace as he did his servant Peter 
from prison and as she spoke she raised 
her eyes and hands and prayed aloud, while 


124 Quadratus. 

Imogene mutely but tearfully joined in her 
supplication. 

When she had concluded she sat down and 
drew Imogene’s head upon her shoulder. “Will 
God be sure to hear, Placidia } ” whispered 
the girl as she looked toward the door, expect- 
ing, perhaps, to see some angel visitant entering 
even then. 

“Yes, God is sure to hear,” answered Pla- 
cidia, but the next moment a troubled look 
came into her face. 

The watchful eyes of her companion saw it. 
“What is it — what is the matter.?” she asked. 

“ I was thinking of thy question, Imogene, 
and of what I used to hear in the Church of Al- 
exandria. It is more than a year since I was 
in a church,” she added ; “ but I remember so 
well our deacon, Athanasius, how careful he was 
to make us remember the greatness and glory 
of the Lord Jesus Christ.” 

“ Wert thou likely to forget it, then .? ” asked 
Imogene. 

Placidia would not tell her young convert of 
the dispute about Arianism, but merely an- 
swered, “ Perhaps we were, only I think we be- 
gan to go to the other extreme, and forget his 
loving kindness and tender mercy. I was 
thinking of Athanasius and his sermons while 


Somethmg New. 


125 


thou wert speaking, and wondered whether I 
had not been wrong lately in thinking so much 
of the love of Christ. I know not how it was,” 
went on Placidia, talking to herself rather than 
to Imogene, “ but after my mother died and I 
was all alone — a slave among the Jews — the 
power of Christ did not comfort me so much. 
I seemed to want a mother’s love, and I am 
afraid I have^ been thinking the Lord Christ 
had this mother-love for me.” 

“ Thou tellest me the Lord Christ did love us 
like that ! ” exclaimed Imogene sharply. Thou 
saidst there were words written like these: 
‘ When my father and mother forsake me, then 
the Lord will take me up ! ” Thou saidst that 
meant he would be mother and father too, and 
how could he be a mother if he did not love us 
like one 't ” 

“ Forgive me, Imogene, for making thee 
doubt the love of God our Saviour,” said Pla- 
cidia tenderly, seeing the look of distress in the 
sweet, pale face of her friend. “ I will think 
more of this love again, and if — if I am 
wrong — ” 

Mayest thou be wrong after all ? ” asked 
Imogene anxiously. 

“ No, dear ; Christ loves us, and died for us— r 
died that we might live. It was not that I 


126 Quadratus. 

doubted his love, but whether we might go to 
him with every little care and trouble, whether 
if he were so great and glorious he could — ” 
and there she stopped. 

“ What wouldst thou say, my Placidia ? ” asked 
Imogene anxiously ; “is thy God like our forest 
spirits — too great and powerful to be troubled 
with the sorrows of poor slaves ^ ” 

“No, no! Hush, Imogene, oiv Lord Christ 
died the death of a slave, and so he can feel for 
us in all our sorrows.” 

“Then what dost thou mean.?” asked Imo- 
gene, still very much puzzled. “ Is it that we 
may not pray to him so often .? ” 

But Placidia again shook her head. She 
could not define the filmy doubt that so often 
obscured her spiritual vision, and so she wisely 
gave up the attempt, seeing that it would only 
unsettle the faith of Imogene and render her 
unhappy. She had told her the story of the 
Lord’s life on earth ; of his love to little chil- 
dren ; of his compassion for the hungry and 
weary multitude ; of his tenderness with Mar- 
tha and Mary at the grave of their brother ; and 
while teaching her these lessons of his love and 
sympathy she had forgotten for a time the great 
distance that seemed to intervene between them 
now, and her heart had laid down its burden of 


127 


Something New. 

sorrow and care and anxiety at his feet, and she 
had basked in the sunshine of that love she had 
tried to reveal to Imogene. 

As for the young Briton, she received it all 
with the earnest simplicity of a little child. Her 
articles of faith were very few. Christ loved 
her and died to save her, and she loved him, and 
so to hear Placidia speak now as though there 
was a doubt of this troubled her exceedingly. 

She had never heard of Arius and his ab- 
struse doctrine that had set Athanasius on fire 
to defend the assailed honor of his Lord and 
Master, and, therefore, she was the more troub- 
led as she failed to understand the reason of 
this sudden doubt in Placidia. Their talk over 
this matter — for Placidia was determined to set 
Imogene’s mind at rest — was interrupted an 
hour or two later by the entrance of a slave, who 
commanded them to follow him to the presence 
of his master. 

Victor looked flushed and angry, and took a 
draught of wine from a jeweled cup as they en- 
tered hand in hand. “ Ye make a pretty con- 
trast and might have an easy time of it with me 
if ye liked,” he said, eyeing them from head to 
foot as they stood before him. 

Placidia did not reply, but her eyes flashed 
and her cheeks grew crimson. “Thou wouldst 


128 Quadratus. 

make a splendid Hebe,” said Victor in a tone of 
admiration. “ Come, now, be reasonable. Thou 
wert not in earnest when thou saidst thou wert 
a nun.” 

Placidia saw that this declaration had been 
of some use at least, and she determined to 
press her advantage. “ Not in earnest ! ” she 
repeated ; “ dost thou suppose I have no more 
conscience than thou, or that I — ” 

“ Come, come ; forget not thou art my slave,” 
interrupted Victor. 

“ I am a nun of the Church of Alexandria. 
Send for Cecilian, thy bishop, and let him duly 
inquire of that whereof I affirm. I demand this 
at thy hands as a Christian ruler and magis- 
trate. I have never before been able to state 
how T was stolen from Alexandria in a riot by a 
party of Jews, but I state this now to thee, the 
prefect of Carthage, and in the name of the 
Church and the emperor I demand justice.” 

“Justice!” repeated Victor, staring at the 
two girls in blank amazement. He might have 
laughed at her demand, and ordered her to be 
whipped for her temerity in speaking to him 
thus — might even have reached the strip of 
rhinoceros hide that he always kept at hand and 
inflicted some chastisement upon her himself 
but for the hints of his friends about the power 


Something New. 1 29 

of the Church and the danger of touching a 
nun. “Justice!” he repeated again after a 
pause ; “ thou dost talk about justice. I won- 
der who will repay me the gold pieces thou hast 
cost me.” 

“ My friends will pay any reasonable sum to 
ransom me,” said Placidia ; but the words were 
not spoken very confidently, for she suddenly 
thought of the reproaches she had heaped upon 
her sister for marrying Lucullus, and with 
what scorn and contempt she had met all the 
advances of her brother-in-law, and that these 
were now her only relatives. 

The hesitation of her manner made Victor 
decide in his own mind not to trust to this hope 
of a ransom for regaining his money, but at the 
same time he resolved to get rid of his trouble- 
same bargain without delay, for he could see 
that Placidia might be the cause of trouble be- 
tween himself and the bishop if she remained 
at Carthage very long. 

To Victor’s great relief a party of Jews on 
their way to Syria reached the city a few days 
afterward, and from these he was glad to get a 
third of the price he had paid old Deborah for 
his two slaves, and so they once more found 
themselves in the hands of a new owner. 

To Placidia it was no surprise to find they 


130 


Quadratus. 


again reverted to the old Jewess, and were to 
be taken by her to Syria ; for she knew that she 
had numerous agents traveling about, and she 
was too thankful to escape from the palace of 
Victor to care very much where she was next 
taken. 


The Partmg, 


131 


CHAPTER X. 

THE PARTING. 

D eborah, the ‘Jewess, whose one aim in 
life was to make money, chuckled loudly 
over her cleverness when Placidia and Imogene 
again passed into her hands ; and she thought 
if she could overreach a few more people, as she 
had the prefect of Carthage, Placidia might yet 
prove a profitable investment in spite of her 
obstinacy. The old woman did not treat her 
slaves unkindly, except that their confinement 
was rather close, and they never had a chance 
to escape from her power. But for this and the 
constant change of travel Placidia would have 
sunk under her affliction ; but by degrees she 
was growing more reconciled to her fate, and 
when at last, after a lengthened stay at Cypress, 
they reached Cesarea, and she heard that they 
were going to the spot sacred to every Chris- 
tian — Jerusalem — her heart swelled with joy and 
thankfulness, for pilgrimages to the sacred hill of 
Calvary were already becoming fashionable, and 
the wish to go to the Holy Land had been almost 
as strong as her desire to retire to the desert. 


132 Quadratus. 

This land of Palestine was holy to Deborah 
as well as to Placidia. It was the land of promise 
— the land of David and Solomon ; and though 
trodden down by the Gentiles now, the time 
would come when the Jews would again be re- 
stored to its ancient hills and valleys. It was 
this hope that led so many of her countrymen 
to plot, and scheme, and lie, and cheat ; for 
wealth was power, and the power they longed 
for was to free their land from Gentile domin- 
ion, and to see the ancient line of their kings 
once more seated on the throne of David. 

Old Deborah longed as ardently as any of her 
race for the consummation of this hope. For this 
she toiled and labored — lent countless hoards 
of wealth to luxurious Roman governors, who 
she hoped by and by would lend their aid to 
the plans now sleeping in many a busy brain. 
It was touching to see the change in the world- 
hardened, callous old woman when she stepped 
ashore and once more breathed the air of her 
native land. The lines of her face relaxed, and 
there was the dew of tears in her dim old eyes 
as she stooped and kissed the sacred earth. It 
was a beautiful land, still beautiful in spite of 
its desolation ; and when at length their jour- 
ney was over and they reached the top of a 
gentle slope that commanded a view of the 


33 


The Parting. i 

ruins in the valley beyond — all that remained 
of “ the city of the Great King ” — Placidia could 
not wholly restrain her tears, while old Deborah 
wept aloud. 

It soon transpired, however, that it was not 
merely to weep over the ruins of the sacred 
city that the old Jewess had journeyed all these 
miles, for in the little half-desolate village that 
had sprung up near the site of the ancient city 
a large company of pilgrims had now gathered, 
for the empress-mother, Helena, in spite of 
her seventy-nine years, had come on a pilgrim- 
age with a large retinue of slaves and guards, 
and with some of these, or with Helena herself, 
the Jewess thought she might probably drive a 
good bargain. 

Her tents were pitched near the little village 
of huts and flat-roofed houses, but before they 
had settled themselves they were surprised to 
see a long procession slowly winding its way 
down from the direction of Calvary, and as they 
drew nearer Placidia could see that many of 
them were monks and Roman guards, and 
that near the front walked a white-haired, 
majestic-looking old lady, whose purple-bor- 
dered dress indicated her relation to the imperial 
family. Could this be Helena, the mother of 
Constantine ? 


134 


Quadratus. 

The question was soon answered by some of 
the villagers telling the old Jewess that the Naz- 
arenes had been excavating the top of Mount 
Calvary, and were now bringing down a cross 
that had been found there. 

“ A cross ! ” repeated Placidia ; “ can it be 
the very cross on which the Lord was cru- 
cified ? ” 

But Deborah turned upon her a look of dis- 
gust. “ The Nazarenes will believe any thing 
after that,” she said, as though it would have 
lain there three hundred years and now be, 
found perfect ; ” and with a muttered curse as 
she watched the procession wind its slow 
length along she turned into the tent and or- 
dered Placidia and Iinogene to follow, for if this 
company of Christians were so near she would 
not trust them out of her sight until they were 
disposed of. She hoped to sell them both to the 
empress-mother, and for this purpose she went 
out early the next morning and met some of the 
attendants on their way to the sacred mount to 
pray, for no Jews were allowed to enter the 
presence of the august old lady herself 

Of course she had a very plausible tale to tell 
as to the way the two Christian captives came 
into her hands ; and she so far touched the 
sympathies of her auditors that later in the day 


The Parting, 135 

a command was sent to her to take the little 
British maiden to the imperial residence. 

No mention was made of Placidia, and so she 
ventured to remind the messenger that she had 
two Christian slaves. But the cunning and ava- 
rice of the Jews were too well known for them 
to take much heed of the hint. If Imogene was 
a Briton and a Christian, doubtless Helena 
would purchase her, for she had a tender regard 
for those barbarians, the man said ; but she had 
no need of any others, and she advised the old 
woman to journey further on without delay, as 
the Jews were more than ever hated now since 
the true cross had been found, and what the Lord 
had suffered thus presented so palpably before 
them. 

Deborah sniffed and grunted, but asked a 
large sum for Imogene, whom she professed her- 
self unwilling to take from Placidia. The poor 
girl herself was very unwilling to leave the friend 
who had been as a mother, sister, and teacher 
to her, and she cried bitterly when she thought 
it might be the last time she would ever look 
on that sweet, grave face. Placidia, too, was 
deeply moved, for she had learned to love the 
little clinging, affectionate girl very dearly ; but 
she knew that such a shelter and refuge might 
never be found again if this were lost, and so 
9 


136 Quadratus. 

she begged her to stop her tears and look smil- 
ing and pleasant, for fear the empress-mother 
should be displeased at her sadness. 

As she had hoped and prayed, Imogene was 
purchased by Helena to be sent back to her 
own land and friends, that she might tell them 
the wonderful news of God’s love to man which 
she had learned from the lips of Placidia. 

The poor nun smiled faintly when she heard 
this. “ My life hath not been quite in vain,” she 
said, “ and it may be God will take me from this 
earth to join my mother in heaven very soon.” 

Not until we have reached Antioch and I 
have found a customer for thee, I hope,” said 
old Deborah, with a grim smile, as she overheard 
these words ; “ thou mayest die then as soon 
as thou wilt,” she added, “ for I shall not be the 
loser.” 

Whether she thought there was any danger 
of her slave dying shortly, or whether she deemed 
it wise to take the hint given her by Helena’s 
attendant, she resolved to travel northward 
without delay, and if she could not dispose of 
Placidia by private contract to sell her publicly 
in the market, for she had grown tired of taking 
her from place to place. 

It was a long and toilsome journey from judea 
to Antioch, and, with the exception of a short 


The Parting. 137 

stay at Damascus they pressed on with all speed, 
for Deborah was anxious to reach it as soon 
as possible, and the old woman heaved a sigh 
of relief when the distant slope of the rocky 
Mount Silphius slowly rose upon their view. 

As they drew nearer, the outline of the far- 
famed city of Antioch became visible — walls of 
enormous height and thickness spanning the 
deep ravines of the mountain ; and before the 
gates were reached, the celebrated groves of 
Daphne, beyond the walls, that begirt with 
laurels, C3^presses, and myrtles the great shrine 
dedicated to Apollo and Diana, could be plainly 
seen. 

Old Deborah amused herself by telling Pla- 
cidia of the grand festivals held in honor of 
those gods only a few years before, when not 
only the sacred groves, but the whole city, was 
crowded with worshipers and revelers, who 
danced round the midsummer fires and spent 
money lavishly with the old Jewess, which was, 
of course, all she cared for, and why she so 
bitterly lamented the establishment of the 
Christian faith. 

“ Not that it will last,” went on the old 
woman spitefully ; “ such a dull, monotonous 
religion, with nothing to attract men to it — no 
music, no festivals, few statues in the churches. 


38 


Quadratus. 


no amusements but the dull life of a nun, or 
hermit, to offer to its followers — how can it 
live ? ” 

Placidia did not venture to reply, and the old 
woman went on : “ Thou hast no dances in thy 
worship, no splendor of gold and jewels, no 
mysteries beyond what the poorest may witness 
if they have only been baptized ; and to whom 
dost thou give thy highest adoration ? — a Naz- 
arene carpenter, who died the death of a slave 
under an insignificant Roman governor. Is it 
likely such a religion will last ? Constantine 
may make it serve his own ends, because the 
old faiths have been slowly dying, and he knew 
the vulgar herd must worship something ; but 
by and by, when the empire as well as the gods 
come to an end — and it is dying, girl, dying, 
decaying of its own rottenness and corruption,” 
almost screamed the old woman. “ It is totter- 
ing, sinking, falling, like a sick man, and a few 
more years will see the end. Dost thou hear 
me, girl ? — the end — the end of this empire and 
this religion, and then — then shall the throne 
of David be established, and his enemies shall 
lick the dust. O for a few more years to see 
this with my eyes before this worn-out old body 
be laid in the dust ! Thou mayest — thou wilt 
live to see it,” she said, turning suddenly upon 


The Parting. 139 

Placidia, “and when it comes thou wilt know 
that Deborah was a prophetess.” 

By this time the gate of the city was reached, 
and the bustle of entrance broke off the old 
woman’s talk, while Placidia looked up in silent 
wo ider at the columns of rock overhanging the 
town, and which, by the help of a little Greek 
art, had been formed into a crowned head, and 
called the head of Charon. 

But even this was soon forgotten as they en- 
tered the principal street, and saw the magnifi- 
cence of its towers and temples, baths and 
villas, and the evidence of wealth and luxury 
that met them on every hand. Placidia had 
been used to the grandeur of Alexandria, but 
that was fairly eclipsed by this “ Queen of the 
East,” this “ City of God,” for she suddenly re- 
membered that it had also been called by this 
name, and that a Christian bishop presided over 
the Church here. 

If this latter fact had not been remembered 
it would soon have been made known to Pla- 
cidia, for the whole city was astir with the news 
that was now thrilling every heart in the em- 
pire. The true cross had been found by the 
empress-mother, Helena, and was being con- 
veyed, with other precious relics, to the new 
capital, Byzantium. 


40 


Quadratus. 


Hymns and anthems were sung in all the 
churches to celebrate the discovery of this pre- 
cious treasure, and in Antioch special sermons 
were preached by the bishop, and agapce, or love- 
feasts, were held in every direction. But no 
one came to invite poor Placidia to one of these, 
for on the day of the great celebration she was 
sent to the slave-market of Antioch to take her 
place among the groups of domestics, dancing- 
girls, field laborers, or water-carriers, whichever 
it was deemed she was most fitted for, the Jew- 
ess having decided to sell off all her slaves and 
rest at Antioch for a time. 

Placidia hoped she might be purchased for a 
domestic servant in a Christian family, and the 
first of these wishes was gratified but not the 
second. A citizen of Antioch bought her to 
take charge of his children, the fact of her being 
a Christian being taken as a recommendation, 
although he still adhered to the worship of the 
old gods himself, and wished his children to do 
the same. 

The news of the cross having been found on 
Mount Calvary reached Alexandria in due 
course, but it was with a chastened gladness 
that the Church rejoiced, for death had laid its 
hand upon the veteran hermit-bishop, Alex- 
ander, and men were looking around for a 


The Parting. 14 1 

worthy successor — one who would withstand 
Arianism and uphold the creed of Nicea, even 
against the emperor himself if it were necessary. 

That the choice should fall upon Athanasius 
surprised no one perhaps but those who thought 
an advanced age a necessary qualification, and 
to these the choice of a young deacon, little 
more than six and twenty, was a great shock in 
spite of his fitness in all other particulars and 
the active part he took in the late Council. 

Quadratus was on a visit to his native city 
when Alexander died, and so he went to the 
cathedra] church of Baucalis, where the cere- 
mony of installing the patriarchs of Alexandria 
always took place. This installation of Athana- 
sius was more grand and imposing than any 
that had preceded it, for each year added some- 
thing to the outer ritual of the Church now — 
something to attract and appeal to the senses 
of those who had little real love for Christ, 
but had conformed outwardly to the usages of 
Christianity, because it was not only the na- 
tional faith but likewise fashionable, and the 
only road open to fortune and success. For the 
sake of these the Church was growing very ac- 
commodating, not only in its ritual, but in the 
adoption of heathen feasts and festivals and 
calling them by sacred names, a custom in 


142 


Quadratus. 


which no danger was then foreseen, but which 
even Athanasius countenanced at least, for, in 
his great anxiety to preserve the purity of the 
Church’s doctrines and liberty, he failed to see 
the evil tendency of practices borrowed from 
the old heathen worship, that many were still 
somewhat unwilling to give up. 

It was a solemn, almost a ghastly sight to 
witness the dead patriarch as he sat enthroned 
and Athanasius kneeling before him to have 
the dead hand placed upon his head, as if in 
benediction. 

It made Quadratus shiver, soldier as he was, 
to witness this, but it was the usual mode of in- 
stalling the patriarch of Alexandria ; and cer- 
tainly, Athanasius had been as a dutiful son to 
his predecessor, and his grief was no false show, 
for he felt he had lost a friend and father, and 
likewise knew that in accepting the high office, 
as his successor, he was but fulfilling Alex- 
ander’s wish and desire, so that to him the lay- 
ing on of that dead hand was not a mockery, 
but a solemn laying upon him of the duties 
and responsibilities of the holy office, which 
he was then promising to discharge fully and 
faithfully. 

What it would cost him to be faithful to the 
vows he was now taking he little dreamed, as 


143 


The Parting. 

he stood before the crowded congregation at 
the close of the ceremony, no longer an insig- 
nificant deacon, but patriarch of the principal 
Church of Egypt. Could he have looked through 
the vista of years stretching on before him, and 
seen the cruel accusations, condemnations, and 
exile that awaited him because he would not 
yield to the imperial power in matters of con- 
science, his heart might have failed him at the 
prospect ; but all this was mercifully hidden 
from him, and he entered upon his duties with 
all the ardor of his age and temperament, and 
Alexandria might well be excused for the pride 
she felt in her young but noble, blameless, un- 
compromising young patriarch. 

Quadratus went back to his duty with his 
mind almost at rest concerning Placidia. She 
must have died in the riot or shortly afterward 
he felt assured, or she would have been dis- 
covered long since. This was the opinion of 
her sister and all their friends, and so the mem- 
ory of the young nun and her mysterious dis- 
appearance gradually faded, and she ceased to 
be thought of unless some circumstance brought 
her to mind again, when her story was told 
with scarcely more interest than an oft-repeated 
tale ; for the tide of life flowed on as rapidly 
then as now, and Placidia’s place in the Alex- 


144 


Quadratus. 


andrian world was soon covered and forgotten, 
while she lived her quiet, lowly, unnoticed life 
at Antioch, unknown by all save God, who from 
her quiet, silent ministry of love and service 
would yet bless the world with an abundant 
harvest, the fruit of which still stretches on to 
our own time, and will never be forgotten. 


John Chrysostom. 


145 


CHAPTER XL 

JOHN CHRYSOSTOM. 

U PWARD of thirty years have passed when 
we again take up the thread of our story — 
years of change for the empire and the Church. 
Constantine and his three sons have all passed 
away. Cruel and faithless tyrants the latter had 
proved in spite of their profession of Christianity, 
and the Church, unable to resist, had too often 
proved herself an accomplice of those tyrants in 
the person of her bishops. Constantins, the 
most unprincipled of these sons, obtained from 
the Bishop of Nicomedia a forged scroll, pur- 
porting to be the last will of Constantine, in 
which he was made to say that he had been 
poisoned by the contrivance of his brothers. 
This was made the pretext for the massacre of 
two uncles and seven cousins of Constantins 
without trial. 

Callus and Julian were, with difficulty, saved 
from the daggers of the assassins. A few years 
later the weak-minded Callus -was drawn ino the 
commission of deeds that appeared like treason 
against his cousin, who, having survived his 


m 


146 OUADRATUS. 

brothers, now reigned as sole emperor, and his 
life was the penalty. 

That Julian, now the sole survivor of the Fla- 
vian family, should imbibe a hatred against a 
religion that seemed to sanction these murders 
was but natural, and though he conformed out- 
wardly to its rites during the life-time of his 
cousin, his intimate friends knew that he de- 
tested it ; and when at length Constantins died, 
and Julian succeeded to the imperial throne, 
he threw off all disguise, and declared it to be 
his intention to restore the worship of the old 
Olympian deities. The accession of a new 
emperor was the signal for rejoicing throughout 
the vast empire, and men thought of little else 
than shows and spectacles, feasting and merri- 
ment. 

Antioch, like every other city, indulged in a 
series of rejoicings, but they were suddenly 
brought to an end one day by the publication 
of an edict closing all the schools where Chris- 
tian instruction was given, which caused dire 
alarm in many a citizen’s household throughout 
the wealthy Asiatic city. 

In the small household of a widow, named 
Arethusa, whose only son, a lad about fourteen, 
was in one of the best schools of Antioch, the 
feeling was not one of disappointment only, 


yohi Chrysostom. 147 

but dire alarm, when he went home with the 
news that the school was closed. 

“ Placidia,” said the widow, addressing an 
elderly lady who sat near, “ can it be that the 
persecution, of which thou hast so often told me, 
is about to be commenced again ? ” 

“Nay, nay, I trust it may not be so, though 
doubtless the Church hath — ” 

“ Thou art always grumbling about the Church 
or the monks, Placidia,” interrupted the boy. 
“ Now I would rather be a monk than a lawyer,” 
he added, darting a look at his mother as he 
spoke. 

She looked up instantly. “ Nay, nay, John ; 
what is there to charm thee in the life of a lazy, 
illiterate monk,” said the lady, 

“ Lazy — illiterate,” repeated the boy. 

“ Yes ; they are of little use to any body in 
the world ; and many of them are ignorant, as 
thou knowest,” replied his mother. 

“ But they are holy and devout if they are 
not learned,” said John. “ I was talking to a 
hermit one day, and he told me their manner 
of life. They rise in the morning wakeful 
and sober, and, joining together in a choir, they 
sing with joyful faces and peaceful consciences 
hymns to the praise of God. They then, on 
bended knees, implore that God will grant 


148 


Quadratus. 


them but one petition — that they may be 
able to stand with confidence before that 
dread tribunal when the only Son of God 
shall come to judge the quick and the dead — 
that they may never hear those terrible words, 
“ I know you not.” 

“ That is their professed aim and motive I 
know, my son, and it is a good one ; but not 
the best — not the noblest. If all who love the 
Lord Christ were to forsake the world and seek 
only their own salvation, what would become 
of the men and women who have not yet learned 
to love the Lord — what should I have been 
better than the Pagans thou dost often laugh 
at if my Placidia here had become a nun, as 
she wished.” 

“ Didst thou wish to be a nun ? ” asked the boy 
curiously. “ I thought thou hadst always been 
my mother’s nurse.” 

“ So I have ever since thy mother needed 
a nurse. Thy grandfather bought me in the 
market here to take care of her when she was 
a baby, and I have never left her since ; ” 
and the grave, gentle face looked lovingly at the 
young widow, who was as dear to her as a child 
is to its mother. 

“ Thou wert a slave, Placidia ! ” uttered the 
boy in a tone of surprise. 


yoJm Chrysostom. 


149 


“ I am a slave still,” said the lady quietly. . 

But in a moment Arethusa was kneeling at 
her side. “ Hush, hush, my Placidia,” she said ; 
“ thou hast promised to forget this. Thou didst 
say, when the parchments were destroyed set- 
ting thee free, that thou wouldst never think of 
thyself as a slave again, and now — now thou 
hast told John,” almost sobbed the lady. 

“ It will do him no harm, my Arethusa,” said 
Placidia, stroking the soft bands of smoothly 
braided hair. “ I wanted to tell him of my life 
in Alexandria, and how I willfully determined to 
fly to the desert, until God taught me there was 
work to be done in the world — work that angels 
might rejoice to be engaged in,” looking fondly 
in the gentle face she held between her hands. 

“ I should like to hear about it,” said John, 
seating himself on a cushion at his mothers 
feet. “ How strange it seemeth, Placidia, to 
hear that thou didst want to be a nun.” 

“ Nay, I was a nun,” said Placidia, “and have 
kept my early vows, only God called me to 
work in the world instead of allowing me to 
shut myself up in the desert ; and I hope that 
thou, too, wilt work for the world and not for 
thyself exclusively, for true and honest men 
will be needed if our new emperor thinks of 
crushing out our holy religion.” 


150 Quadratus. 

John made no reply to this, for his heart 
was set on retiring to a group of hills a few 
miles from the city where a band of monks had 
established a monastery. 

Arethusa looked uneasily at her son as she 
saw these thoughts were still working in his 
mind ; but she knew that her faithful friend 
and nurse would use all her influence to induce 
the boy to give up this project, and she tried to 
leave the matter in God’s hands, as Placidia 
advised. 

A little later the two friends were talking to- 
gether by themselves, and Placidia told Are- 
thusa of the anxiety she had for a long time 
felt when she first came to Antioch lest the 
Christian religion should die out, as the old 
Jewess said it would. 

“ I can smile at the fear now,” said Placidia, 
“and laugh at her assumption of being a proph- 
etess ; but it was a very serious thing to me 
once.” 

“Then thou dost not think Julian hath the 
power to put down the Christian faith even 
if he exalt the Pagan worship again,” said 
Arethusa. 

“ I do not think it is in the power of any 
emperor to do this, because ^ the fullness of 
time ’ had come when God sent his Son into 


yolm Chrysostom. 


151 

the world, and ever since our holy faith hath 
been making new conquests — spreading its 
light wider and wider through the world, and it 
will do so still, although a time of chastening 
may come upon the Church for her sins and 
corruptions.” 

“ Her sins ! ” repeated Arethusa. 

“ Yes ; she hath accommodated herself to the 
vices and cruelties of those who patronized her, 
and that Julian should hate all Christians is not 
surprising.” 

Arethusa, however, looked her surprise. “ Art 
thou not too harsh, Placidia ? ” 

“ Nay, it cannot be too harsh to say that the 
Church is forgetting her holy mission when her 
bishops will supply forged wills -as the pretext 
for a number of murders, as the Bishop of Nico- 
media did. Thou dost forget that our present 
emperor barely escaped being massacred with 
his brothers and uncle, and that he doth lay 
the sin of these murders on a Christian bishop.” 

Arethusa shivered with horror. “ The world 
is very wicked,” she said ; “ I cannot wonder 
that John wishes to leave it for a quiet retreat 
in the hills.” 

“ But John Chrysostom must not leave it,” 
said Placidia solemnly; “he must learn, as I 
did, that God so loved the world that he gave 
10 


152 


Quadratus. 


his only begotten son to redeem it. It is as 
wicked now as then ; and if it be plain to us to 
witness, its sin, what must it be to Hnn who is 
pure and holy. Surely if we are partakers of 
his love — the love that loved the world — we 
can share its pain too, and bear with the world 
for the sake of helping it. ” 

“ Such love is certainly nobler than flying from 
its temptations to secure the salvation of our 
own souls,” said Arethusa. 

“Yes, and we must teach John to battle 
bravely against the evil of the world, but not to 
fly from it. ” 

It was a delicate task Arethusa had under- 
taken, and one that gained but little sympathy 
among her Christian friends ; for if a lad gave 
any indications of piety in those days, it was 
generally the most earnest wish of parents that 
he should embrace a monastic life, and John 
himself greatly desired this, young as he was. 
The wish was not extraordinary for an earnest, 
devout mind, sick of the prevailing frivolity and 
love of sensual pleasure. The wealthy, disso- 
lute Asiatic city had gathered to itself all that 
was most choice and corrupt of Greek manners 
and Roman luxury, and these, added to the old 
Syrian stock, grew into an efflorescence of vo- 
luptuousness in spite of its being the most im- 


John Chrysostom. 1 5 3 

portant Christian city of Asia, and the first to 
give the disciples their distinguishing name. 

In such a city there was plenty of work for 
willing hands, and Placidia and Arethusa were 
both occupied the greater part of the day in 
visiting the hospital or prison, the poor with- 
in the city walls, or the beggars and sick who 
often lay in the fields outside, for strangers in 
these conditions were not allowed to pass the 
gates. To provide for these, and honor the 
memory of those who had suffered in the perse- 
cutions, food was daily carried out and placed 
upon their tombs, and it was upon this errand 
Placidia was bent to-day when she went out 
after her conversation with Arethusa. The 
widow herself would remain at home with her 
son to assist him with his studies, and talk over 
the advisability of his attending the school of 
Libanus. 

Libanus was one of the last disciples of Plato, 
and the most learned grammarian and rheto- 
rician of the age, but he was a heathen, and 
Arethusa was naturally anxious about placing 
her son under such a master. 

John himself looked grave when she made 
the proposal, but he did not urge any objection, 
merely saying with a smile, “ My mother, we 
shall defeat the emperor’s plans if all do this.” 


54 


Quadratus. 


“The emperor’s plans !” repeated Arethusa. 

“ My mother, hast thou not thought that in 
depriving Christian children of the means of in- 
struction is one of his plans to overturn Chris- 
tianity ? If the children are left to grow up in 
ignorance it will fall into contempt in a few 
years, lose its power, and die, while paganism, 
being upheld by learning and philosophy, will 
again flourish.” 

But his mother shook her head. “ Nay, nay, 
John, learning is a helpful handmaid to our 
holy religion, and I am greatly desirous that 
being a Christian thou shouldst be a learned 
man likewise ; but do not forget this, my son, 
that our religion is divine, and not dependent 
upon philosophy for its continuance.” 

The lad bowed his head in assent, but still 
remained thoughtful. “ I was not speaking my 
own thoughts, but what I have heard as being 
the emperor’s design,” he said slowly. 

“Then, if such be his design, it behooves 
all Christian parents to see that their children 
are carefully instructed ; and if the schools be 
closed, our ministers and bishops, and such men 
as have the gift of knowledge, should be invited 
to teach them at home or in the chambers of 
the church.” 

This mention of the church reminded John 


155 


John Chrysostom. 

of a duty which he and his mother had almost 
forgotten. He was one of the readers attached 
to the church, for in those days manuscript 
copies of the Scriptures being very expensive, 
and many of the congregation unable to read, 
it was customary for them to assemble in a 
chamber adjoining the church to hear chapters 
or portions of it read. So John prepared to go 
out at once, arranging to meet his mother after 
the evening service, for there would be a short 
one to-night in preparation for the full worship 
of the next day, Friday, for in these early 
ages Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday, as being 
typical of the Epiphany, Easter, and Pentecost, 
were set aside for divine worship. Some there 
were, of course, who found Sunday quite enough, 
and others who urged that the Jewish custom 
of going up to the temple three times a year as 
the correct orthodox plan, and only presented 
themselves in the church at the time of the 
feasts, but, nevertheless, there was always a 
large congregation. 

As John turned into the handsome street and 
passed under the marble colonnade, he was as- 
tonished to see a crowd of people running in 
the direction of the cathedral, and, following 
close upon their heels, a party of the city guard 
apparently in hot pursuit. Anxious to ascer- 


156 Quadratus. 

tain the cause he hurried after them, and just 
before the church was gained saw them sudden- 
ly stop, and on drawing nearer he discovered 
that they had captured one of the men of whom 
they had been in pursuit, but the other had 
gained the church, and, therefore, could not be 
touched ; for the right of sanctuary had been 
transferred from the heathen temples to the 
Christian churches by the order of Constantine, 
and, though the guards might curse and swear, 
they dare not approach the altar, where the 
poor panting wretch who had escaped them 
was now kneeling. 

They led his unfortunate companion off to 
prison as John ascended the broad marble steps 
and passed into the outer court, where Jews, 
pagans, and unbaptized people assembled, and 
then passed on to the second space, where, be- 
neath the vast dome — emblem of eternity — the 
congregation of believers sat. The afternoon 
sun falling upon the jewels set in the walls and 
colored marble mosaic floor, gave them a warm 
brilliance beside the snowy marble pillars with 
their wreaths of beaten gold. But John scarce- 
ly glanced at this to-day, but looked on to the 
third division of the church, where the bishop’s 
chair stood surrounded by a semicircular seat 
for the clergy, and beyond, the altar itself, above 


John Chrysostom. 


157 


which there was a statue of Christ, bending 
forward, as if looking down in tenderest pity 
upon the trembling fugitive clinging to the 
rails below. 

John wondered whether he had seen this 
statue as he slowly advanced up the church. 
No one else w^as near to point his gaze toward 
it, and so he timidly advanced and entered tlie 
space exclusively set apart for the ministers. 
Pointing upward with his finger, as he made 
the sign of the cross, he said, in a gentle voice, 
“ Thou hast escaped through the mercy of Him 
whom that statue represents, wilt thou not seek 
from him the pardon of all thy sins ? ” 

“No!” answered the man. “I reverence 
Christ as a good and holy being, but Arius 
taught us better than that we should worship 
him now;” and, in spite of the place and cir- 
cumstances, he drew his robe away from John 
as though he would contaminate him. 

The boy’s cheeks flushed angrily for a mo- 
ment, but he subdued his emotion, and without 
venturing nearer he said, “ Can I do any thing 
for thee ? ” 

“ Is he taken — my friend, Victor } ” 

“ Yes, the guards led him away as I came into 
the church. Can we do any thing for him ? — 
hast thou friends in Antioch.?” 


158 Quadratus. 

The man shook his head. “We came from 
Egypt to meet friends, but they are in worse 
trouble than ourselves. Wilt thou or thy 
friends go to Victor, in prison, and tell him — 
tell him } — but there, thou wilt know best what 
to say, although thou art a Catholic instead of 
an Arian and then the fugitive turned aside 
his head and groaned. “ Leave me now,” he 
said the next minute, “ I am safe here and so 
John went slowly down toward the side en- 
trance to the chamber where his little congrega- 
tion would be waiting to hear him read. 


Beyond the Gates. 


159 


CHAPTER XII. 

BEYOND THE GATES. 

P LACIDIA passed out of the city gates with 
her palm-leaf baskets laden with food, and 
took her way to thb tombs of the martyrs, where 
a crowd of hungry wayfarers were sure to have 
assembled. As soon as these had been fed 
from one basket, she took the other to a spot 
compared with which this field of the dead and 
desolate was bright and joyous. None but the 
most brave and fearless among the devoted 
band of Christian women ever ventured within 
the dreadful in closure Placidia was now enter- 
ing, and any thing more gloomy than the aspect 
of this place could not be imagined. Not a 
blade of grass was to be seen, not a green leaf 
stirred in the breeze this soft balmy spring day ; 
the very ground within these barriers looked 
blighted, and the groups of black tents scattered 
here and there showed little stir of active life 
within or without, only a few bent, worn figures 
of men, crippled, maimed, and blind, creeping 
and tottering in and out of some of these mis- 
erable dwellings. 


Quadratus. 


i6o 

At the sight of Placidia they looked up with a 
smile of welcome, for she was as an angel of light 
to this village of lepers, bringing to them some 
tidings of home and loved ones, who dared not 
come near themselves, and bringing to others, 
who were lonely and desolate and must have 
starved but for the charity of the Church, food 
and raiment, and to all the Word of God. 

Some within the goats’-ha^ir tents could not 
lift themselves from their beds, and these Pla- 
cidia fed with her own hands and spoke such 
words of comfort as they needed ; and round the 
door of one of the tents, where two or three of 
the most helpless were lying, the rest would 
gather, carefully covering their mouths as they 
drew near, that the poison of their breath should 
not fall upon the visitor. It was wonderful to 
think how she had passed in and out among 
them for years, spending hours sometimes in that 
poisonous atmosphere, and yet had never taken 
this dreadful Eastern pestilence. She certainly 
took all the precautions possible, sitting always 
in the tent door to read, and her auditors, if 
they wished to speak, stood at some distance 
and not directly facing her ; yet still she knew, 
and they knew, that each time she came it might 
be the last as their visitor and ministering an- 
gel, and that she might have to take up her 


Beyond the Gates. i6i 

abode among them for the' rest of her days as 
the result of her devoted love. Hitherto, how- 
ever, she had escaped, almost by a miracle as it 
seemed to her, but she was careful after leaving 
this lazar village to walk a long way in the out- 
skirts before venturing to enter the city again 
or approach any of her friends. Arethusa she 
never allowed to come near this spot. Her 
life must be protected for her son’s sake, she 
insisted, and so the young widow had yielded 
and let her follow this work alone. 

To avoid speaking to any one while on her 
return from the lepers was Placidia’s great care, 
and to-day, when she saw a woman approaching, 
she passed over to the other side of the road. 
To her annoyance, however, the woman crossed 
too, and as she drew nearer Placidia saw that 
she looked worn and weary, and her clothes, 
which had once been rich and costly, were now 
shabby, frayed, and travel-stained. 

“ Nay, nay ; do not bid me depart until I have 
spoken,” she said. “ I am poor, old, and hun- 
gry, but if I can only reach Antioch I am safe.” 

“ Thou hast friends, then, in the city ^ ” asked 
Placidia, strangely moved by the manner and 
voice of the poor stranger. 

“Yes, my brother is there, or will be there 
shortly ; he has been to the war in Persia.” 


1 62 Quadratus. 

^‘But the Persian war is over, and Constan- 
tins is dead,” said Placidia. 

“ Dead — dead ! ” whispered the stranger, 
looking as though she could not credit the 
intelligence. 

“ Yes, he died some weeks since, and his 
cousin, Julian, is our emperor now.” 

“ And the army — the guard of the labarum — 
they are at Antioch still.” 

Placidia shook her head. “ Where hast thou 
been lately not to have heard of the death of 
Constantins, and that Julian hath declared him- 
self a pagan ? ” she asked. But instead of reply- 
ing the woman sank to the ground with a deep 
groan, murmuring, “ Not at Antioch ! not at An- 
tioch ! and they told me I should find him 
there.” 

“ Whom didst thou wish to find ? ” asked 
Placidia, gently raising and supporting her. 

“ My brother ; he is one of the sacred guard, 
and they are not at Antioch thou sayest.” 

“ No, they have not been at Antioch since 
our emperor started on his expedition to Persia. 
But hast thou no other friends ^ ” she asked. 

“ I am a widow and have but one son, and 
he is at Tagaste, in Numidia.” 

“And thou earnest from Tagaste?” asked 
Placidia, looking more curiously at the stranger. 


Beyond the Gates. 


163 


“ Nay, nay ; I came from Alexandria on a 
pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and dwelt there some 
years, until the Jews robbed me of all I pos- 
sessed, and then I started for Antioch to meet 
my brother as he went to Persia, but was taken 
ill at Damascus and lay in the hospital many 
weeks. Then they told me I should meet him 
as he returned, but I have been a long time on 
the journey and now I am too late — thou art 
sure I am too late.^” she added questioningly. 

“Yes, the emperor’s guard is not there now. 
But I came from Alexandria,” said Placidia, 
“ and long to hear of friends I left there, so if 
thou wilt return with me I can give thee food 
and shelter, and the next messenger that jour- 
neys to Tagaste or Constantinople might carry 
a letter to thy son or brother.” 

The stranger’s face brightened at the kind 
offer, but for a minute or two she could only 
press Placidia’s hand in token of her gratitude 
as she took her arm for support. “ The God 
of my martyred father wilt bless thee for thy 
kindness to a stranger,” she managed to say at 
last. 

Placidia started at the words “ My father, 
too, was a martyr,” she said impulsively ; then 
noticing how weak and spent her companion 
seemed, she hastily added, “ but do not talk of 


164 Quadratus. 

this or any thing else now, we have still a long 
walk to the city gates, and — ” 

But I am destitute, and they tell me I shall 
not be admitted,” interrupted the stranger, 
trembling with apprehension. 

“ Leave that to me,” said Placidia confident- 
ly. “ I am known to the guard and he will not 
turn thee back.” 

The stranger made no reply beyond a grate- 
ful pressure of the hand as she glanced down at 
her travel-stained dress. It had been very 
handsome once — its gold threads worked into a 
representation of Christ’s miracle of feeding five 
thousand. There might not be as many fig- 
ures as this, but there they sat in little crowds 
still, headless, armless, and in a general state of 
dilapidation from the fraying of the gold threads ; 
but the larger-sized upright figures of Christ 
and his disciples, that occupied the back of the 
robe, were in a better state of preservation, and 
the dress, shabby as it was, gave its wearer a 
stately air still, and convinced Placidia that she 
was a lady at least. What other thoughts the 
sight of the stranger had stirred within her she 
carefully concealed, but she was very gentle 
and considerate toward her as they slowly made 
their way toward the gate of the . city. The 
outer one was passed without difficulty, but the 


Beyond the Gates. 


165 

guard posted at the inner gate looked at them 
curiously as they crossed the bridge spanning 
the deep ditch running between the inner and 
outer walls, and as Placidia drew near with her 
companion leaning on her arm, he said ques- 
tioningly, Sick ? ” 

“No,” answered Placidia, “only travel-worn 
and weary from a long journey,” and she stepped 
forward and whispered something in an under- 
tone that appeared to satisfy the man, although 
he looked surprised as he glanced from one to 
the other. 

They had still a long distance to walk for one 
so weak and weary, for Placidia lived on the out- 
skirts of the city, close to where the rushing 
Orontes tumbled its turbid waters along toward 
the sea. Any doubt of the stranger being wel- 
comed by Arethusa never crossed Placidia’s 
mind, for it was almost as mother and daughter 
that they had lived for years now. 

By the time they reached home people were 
preparing to go to church ; but Placidia had no 
intention of leaving the stranger to the care of 
the servants. She directed them to prepare 
a meal at once, and then leading her visitor to 
her own room, she took off her shoes, helped 
her to unrobe, and after she had taken some 
refreshment, led her to the bath that had been 


1 66 Quadratus. 

prepared for her, laying out at the same time 
the best robe she possessed for the stranger to 
put on, as well as all other things she would re- 
quire. When this was all over, and the stranger 
eomfortably placed on a couch by the window 
overlooking the Orontes, Placidia came and sat 
down beside her. 

“ Wilt thou tell me something of Alexandria 
— canst thou tell me now ? ” she said a little 
eagerly. “ Thou saidst thy father was a martyr, 
and I thought — I thought — ” Placidia’s breath 
was coming in quick gasps, but she subdued 
her emotion, for the stranger was looking at her 
curiously. 

For a minute or two she did not speak, but 
sat looking fixedly at her, until at last she said, 
“ Thou dost remind me strangely of a sister 
I lest a long time since.” 

“ Thirty-four years ago said Placidia. Me- 
lissa! my sister! dost thou not know me.?” she 
added, throwing her arms around her sister’s 
neck. “ Hast thou forgotten Placidia — little 
Placidia, as thou wert wont to call me .? ” 

“ Placidia ! ” repeated Melissa, slowly passing 
her hand across her forehead, as though she 
feared her mind was wandering, ‘‘ Placidia was 
a nun,” she said, looking at her sister’s simple, 
but not conventual dress. 


Beyond the Gates. 167 

“ Placidia is a nun still in this, that she labors 
for God in the way he hath directed her, though 
not in the way she wished,” said her sister 
slowly. 

Melissa raised herself, and looked again in her 
sister’s face, and the next minute she uttered a 
short scream as she threw herself into her arms. 

Yes, yes ; I know thee now,” she sobbed. “ I 
saw my father in thine eyes. Fool that I was 
not to recognize thee before, only I thought — I 
thought — ” 

“ I was dead,” whispered Placidia through 
her tears, “ while I have often thought of Me- 
lissa, and saw my mother in thy face soon after 
I met thee.” 

“ Thou didst often think of me,” said Melissa, 
suddenly looking up, “ and yet thou hast never 
written, never sent to tell me of thy safety. 
O, Placidia, my sister, how couldst thou treat 
us thus cruelly ! for both Quadratus and I went 
in search of thee after the riot.” 

“ Quadratus,” repeated Placidia; “ thou mean- 
est Lucullus, thy husband.” 

“ Lucullus made every inquiry possible,” said 
Melissa ; “ but Quadratus went in search of 
thee through the desert, and was the last to 
give up hope of seeing thee again.” 

“ Then he was not killed in that dreadful 
11 


i68 


Quadratus. 


riot! The slaves told me he was, or — or — O, 
Melissa, if I had known he had escaped 
I think I should have written to thee after 
I came to Antioch — I could not have done so 
before.” 

“ And why didst thou not, my Placidia I Thou 
knewest thou hadst a sister who loved thee,” said 
Melissa reproachfully. 

“ I was not sure that thou didst love me in 
those days. I had tried to crush every human 
love out of my own heart, and — and I was fill- 
ing it with pride instead — spiritual pride, which 
is the worst of all. I thought myself better 
than thee or Lucullus, or even my dear, holy 
mother. Nay, nay ; do not hinder me. I must 
tell thee this now, how I was mistaken and 
puffed up, and yet — yet I did want to serve 
God, Melissa.” 

“ I am sure thou didst, my Placidia 1 ” 

“ Only it was in the wrong way,” went on 
Placidia. “ I thought myself too good for com- 
mon every-day use in the world. I, the child of 
a martyr, must do something different from that, 
and so to go to the desert and leave a name in 
Alexandria for holiness and devotion became 
the desire of my heart, and every thing and 
every body was sacrificed for it, and I grew 
proud and scornful.” 


Beyond the Gates, 169 

“ Nay, nay, my Placid ia, speak not so harshly 
of thyself.” 

Placidia shook her head, and smiled. “ I am 
only calling things by their right names now,” 
she said ; “ I did not call it pride and scorn 
then, but I have since learned to know that it 
was.” 

“ But thou hast not told me why thou didst 
not write to us,” interrupted Melissa. 

“ Canst thou ask — canst thou wonder that I 
felt doubtful about applying to thee or Lucullus 
after the way I treated thee at home, more 
especially as I had no chance of doing so until 
nearly a year afterward, when I was brought 
here and sold.” 

“ Sold ! ” repeated Melissa, with a start of 
horror. “ Placidia, do not tell me thou hast 
been a slave,” she said, covering her face with 
her hands, while the tears ran down between 
her fingers. 

“ Nay, nay, Melissa ; do nof grieve at God’s 
way of granting my wish, it was the best way 
after all,” she added. 

Melissa drew her sister nearer to her. “ O, 
my Placidia, I cannot bear to think of it while 
I was repining and murmuring in the midst of 
luxury — ” 

“ I was saved all that trouble and care by 


70 


Quadratus. 


having plenty of work to do — the homely work 
of washing and dressing little children, and 
teaching them what I could of the love of God 
in Christ Jesus our Lord.” 

“ And then thou didst marry, Placidia ? ” 

“ Nay, I might, perhaps, but for my early 
vows,” said the sister with a slight blush. 

My nun’s dress had been torn from me, it is 
true, but they could not touch my heart, and, 
besides, I had placed myself under the protec- 
tion of my vows to save myself from — from a 
fate worse than death ; and, after that, how could 
I break them ? ” 

“ But thou art not a slave now,” said Melissa, 
looking round the pleasant, elegantly-furnished 
room in which they sat. 

“ I am, and I am not. Arethusa is my daugh- 
ter and my mistress too,” said Placidia, with a 
smile, and then she explained her meaning, and 
again begged for news of her brother and 
Alypus, and how she came to leave Alexandria. 

“ I was driven away when our brave patriarch, 
Athanasius, fled to the desert. Thou dost re- 
member his struggle with Arius, and how he 
hath opposed his doctrine even against the late 
emperor, who was an Arian. Thou hast, doubt- 
less, heard too how Constantius tried to get 
rid of him because he withstood his assumption 


Beyond the Gates. 171 

to control the Church in all things, and ap- 
pointed in his place George of Cappadocia, an 
Arian like himself, to rule over the Church of 
Alexandria. It was one Thursday night in 
February when this evil man entered the 
church where we were gathered for service, and 
ordered the guards he had brought with him 
to seize Athanasius as he sat in his chair. But 
at this word the congregation rose and begged 
the patriarch to save his life by flight. This, 
however, he would not do until nearly all the 
people had left, and then he quietly passed 
out and made his way to the desert of Thebes, 
where he hath dwelt ever since ; building up 
the faith of the Church by his writings, now 
that he is no longer able to preach.” 

“ And this Arian bishop, George,” said Pla- 
cidia, “ evil tidings have been brought to us 
concerning him.” 

“Not more evil than he himself is, for he 
is a shepherd who sheareth the sheep but never 
feedeth them. He came to our city with the 
state of a barbarian conqueror, and, like a cruel 
oppressor, he laid heavy taxes upon our mer- 
chants, until they were fain to leave or give up 
all thought of trading. My Lucullus died shortly 
afterward, and Alypus carried what he could ot 
our possessions to Tagaste, for the heavy duties 


172 Quadratus. 

on salt, niter, and other things was consuming 
our substance, and the last tax was more vexa- 
tious than any, for he founded it on the right 
of the old Pharoahs of Egypt to all the houses 
in the city, and laid a tax upon them.” 

‘‘ And this was done by a Christian bishop, 
under a Christian emperor ! ” exclaimed Pla- 
cidia sadly. “ Melissa, a time of purging is at 
hand I feel sure, and it may be the martyrs are 
not all buried yet.” 


A Day m Antioch. 


173 


CHAPTER XIII. 

A DAY IN ANTIOCH. 

RETHUSA and her son welcomed Me- 



lissa almost as warmly as Placidia had 
done, but John seemed a little disappointed, 
too, when he saw how ill their visitor looked, 
and how much occupied Placidia was with her 
sister. He hardly liked to mention the promise 
he had made to the fugitive in the church now, 
and yet the prisoner ought to be visited, and 
there was no time to lose, for he had no doubt 
but that there were, here in Antioch, some of 
the conspirators concerned in the plot for which 
the Proconsul of Africa and the Prefect of Egypt 
were condemned to be executed. 

Placidia soon noticed the boy’s perplexed and 
anxious looks, and before retiring for the night 
she asked him if he had heard any fresh news, 
for her mind was full of the story her sister had 
told her concerning the oppression and tyranny 
of the patriarch, George, of Alexandria. 

John shook his head. “ It is no news that a 
fugitive took refuge in the church,” he said, 
and that his companion was taken to prison.” 


174 


Quadratus. 


“Who were they?” asked Placidia. 

“ Strangers in Antioch, and I have promised 
that thou shouldst visit this prisoner,” said John 
dubiously. 

“ I will go in the morning,” said Placidia 
quietly. 

“ But thy sister — ” suggested John. 

“ She will be better, doubtless ; she is but 
weary with long travel, and I have let her talk 
too much for her feeble strength.” 

So at sunrise the next morning Placidia, with 
her palm-leaf basket, containing the prisoner’s 
breakfast, was outside the gates of the prison, 
waiting for the gloomy portal to unclose and 
admit her, as well as several others, bound on 
the same mission of mercy. 

She was silently shown to where the African 
prisoner was secured, and then the warden left 
her to make his acquaintance by herself, while 
he passed on with another visitor. Placidia had 
become accustomed to the gloom of the place, 
and saw that an old man, white-haired and 
bowed with age, sat on the ground before her. 
“ I am sorry to see thee in this evil case,” she 
said compassionately, taking some honey-cakes 
from her basket as she spoke. 

The old man lifted his head and looked at 
her. “Thou art one of the pillars of the 


A Day in Antioch. 175 

Church,” he said in a sneering tone without 
noticing her gift. 

Placidia started as she heard the clear ringing 
tones of his voice. Where had she heard it be- 
fore ; why did it cause her to start and tremble 
with some undefined sense of horror ? She 
looked at him again more earnestly, and he 
looked at her, but there was no recognition in 
his face. 

“Thou art one of the pillars of the Church,” 
he said ; “ the fanatical Church that our new 
emperor will crush out of existence. I be- 
longed to it once — was a Catholic and then an 
Arian, and now I am going back to the old 
faith of Greece and Rome, and will help Julian 
to restore Apollo to his shrine of Daphne, if he 
will only let me live. O, to be at Carthage 
once more when the old worship and the old 
games are restored ! ” 

At the mention of Carthage Placidia started. 
In a moment the half-drunken flower-crowned 
prefect rose before her in the place of this old 
man. “Thou wert prefect of Carthage once,” 
she said as quietly as she could. 

“ Ah ! thou knowest me, then,” said the old 
man. 

“ I did know thee. Dost thou remember old 
Deborah, the Jewess, and — ” 


1 76 Quadratus. 

“And Onias, her kinsman, thou wouldst say,” 
interrupted the prisoner. “ Thou, then, art in 
possession of their secrets, ^but I tell thee, as I 
told him, I will have nothing to do with the 
Jews or their accursed temple either. I know 
them too well, for if it had not been for them 
and their money lending I should not be here,” 
and he spat at his visitor in the impotence of 
his rage. 

“ I am no Jewess,” said Placidia calmly, “ I 
am a simple Christian woman, who would fain 
do thee good if thou wilt allow me.” 

But the old man shook his head. “Ye Chris- 
tians can do me no good,” he said scornfully. 
“ I tell thee I have renounced thy faith ; send 
me a priest of the old worship if thou wilt, and 
tell Onias, the Jew, he had better apply to the 
emperor to build his temple and overthrow the 
Church of the Resurrection that stands on Cal- 
vary, where a temple of Venus once stood.” 

Placidia shuddered as she looked at the white- 
haired old man as he said these bitter, mocking 
words. “The emperor would not — ” she began. 

“The emperor will do that or any thing else. 
He hates this faith as much as I do,” angrily 
interposed the prisoner. 

Placidia saw it would be useless to attempt 
any thing like an appeal to his conscience this 


A Day in Antioch. 


177 


morning, and so she silently put down the food 
she had brought, and with a word of farewell 
departed. 

The streets were crowded by this time, and 
the bells ringing for church. Arethusa and 
John would be waiting for her, and so she hur- 
ried home with her basket, still feeling anxious 
and perturbed from her interview with the pris- 
oner. She was not so fully occupied, however, 
as to pass unnoticed the change in some of the 
ladies’ dresses this morning. New and strange 
the devices looked to her, but they were omi- 
nous tokens, too, of the change that might come 
over the Christian Church ; for it was no mere 
caprice of fashion that had embroidered the 
chase of Diana on the shawls and robes, and 
substituted the grasshopper of Pallas Athene 
for the cross and dove. 

The Jews, too, seemed to be unusually busy, 
or else it was Placidia’s fancy, weaving fears out 
of what she had heard in the prison concerning 
them and the emperor. 

The sight of Arethusa and John, however, 
roused her from this unusual despondency, and 
on hearing that Arethusa had just seen Melissa, 
and left her quite comfortable, she put down her 
basket and set off to church with them. 

Fashionable Antioch was divided now be- 


78 


Quadratus. 


tween church going and attending the old games 
in the theater and arena ; but the majority still 
went to the cathedral services, and a long line of 
litters, with blue or pink silk hangings, and borne 
on poles, inlaid with gold or ivory, were setting 
down their occupants near the church steps. 
A female slave was usually in attendance upon 
these ladies, and, as they stepped from their lit- 
ters, placed a pair of slippers over their jeweled 
sandals and arranged their embroidered silk 
robes or shawls in graceful folds. Very quaint 
and gaudy were some of these dresses, with 
their representations of the miracles or scenes 
from the lives of the martyrs, in many colored 
embroidery of silk, with borders of crosses or 
doves. Every one wore a cross, and carried a 
small roll of the Scriptures, clasped with jewels, 
and attached to a necklace of gold or pearls, 
and it was no uncommon sight to see these 
richly attired ladies fall upon their knees and 
kiss the hem of some passing monk’s garment, 
and meekly implore their blessing. 

As Placidia and Arethusa were about to as- 
cend the church steps this morning they were 
delayed by a little crowd of these ladies so 
kneeling, while their slaves in attendance still 
stood near the litters, not venturing to approach 
too near. 


A Day hi Antioch. 


179 


With a single glance John Chrysostom took 
in the whole scene, and his pale, earnest face 
flushed as he said in a passionate whisper, “ I 
wish I was a monk, I would rebuke this false 
humility. I would tell these ladies to deal more 
kindly with their slaves instead of kissing my 
garments.” 

“Hush! hush!” whispered his mother; “do 
not talk of being a monk ; we need Christian 
lawyers and magistrates more than monks now.” 
This disputed point was dropped by the ladies 
rising from their knees, and thus clearing the 
church steps so that they could pass into their 
accustomed places. 

When they returned home Placidia went at 
once to Melissa’s room, and found that she had 
risen from her couch, and was kneeling before 
a small cross which she had placed on a pedes- 
tal the night previous. Placidia had not no- 
ticed it then, but she saw now that it was in- 
laid with wood and encased in crystal, and that 
Melissa kept her eyes reverently fixed upon it 
as she prayed. 

Placidia gazed an instant at her sister and 
was about to leave the room again, when Me- 
lissa rose from her knees, and after kissing 
the little cross, held it toward Placidia as she 
begged her to return. “Take it, my sister,” 


i8o Quadratus. 

she said, “ it is the most precious relic a Chris- 
tian can possess.” 

“ What is it } ” asked Placidia curiously. 

“ The wood of the true cross. A portion of it 
was sent to the new capital of the empire, Con- 
stantinople, by the empress-mother, Helena, but 
some is still in the Church of the Resurrection, 
and the bishop hath had some encased in gold 
and jewels, that pilgrims may take this with 
them to all lands in memory of our Lord and 
Master.” 

“ But if the true cross is thus cut up and car- 
ried away by pilgrims there will be nothing left 
of it soon,” said Placidia, gazing at the slip of 
wood in its golden case. 

“ Nay, but, my sister, this wood of the true 
cross is like the widow’s cruse of oil, it is a nev- 
er-failing miracle, for in spite of so much being 
taken away it never grows less — never decreases 
in size or weight.” 

Placidia looked doubtful. “ Didst thou hear 
this at Jerusalem, Melissa.^” she asked. 

“ It is a well-known fact at Jerusalem,” she 
said quickly ; “ how else could the bishop sell 
so many of these precious relics ? ” 

How, indeed, but by imposing on the igno- 
rance and superstition of those who thought it 
was a meritorious work to visit the tombs of the 


A Day in Antioch. i8i 

martyrs and the place where their Lord had 
lived and died. 

Placidia recalled the day when she had stood 
with old Deborah on the slope of the hill over- 
looking the little colony that had gathered round 
the sacred mount of Calvary and watched the 
procession of monks as they carried the lately 
exhumed cross, and for the first time a faint 
doubt crept into her mind as to whether this 
was the true cross after all — whether it had not 
been placed there by some monk who afterward 
took care to lead Helena to where it might be 
found. She almost hated herself for the thought, 
and yet she had seen so much of worldlitiess and 
self-seeking, pride and arrogance under a show 
of humility in this city of Antioch, which yet 
gloried in the name of Christian, that she could 
not so fully believe in the miracles and wonders 
in which she once had such unquestioning faith. 

From this reverie over the little cross, which 
she still held, she was aroused by Melissa ask- 
ing if they had any statues of the saints or vir- 
gin-mother in the house. For a minute or two 
Placidia could scarcely comprehend her mean- 
ing until she recalled the splendid household at 
Alexandria, and Alypus telling her one day 
that the Venus standing in Melissa’s chamber 
was the mother of the Lord Jesus — the mother 


i 82 


Quadratus. 


of love and the guardian of the heart. She had 
been half vexed, half amused then at what she 
attributed to Melissa’s fertile fancy, but she 
looked more serious now. “ The saints or vir- 
gin-mother,” she repeated. 

“Yes, I have missed them sorely since I 
have left Alexandria,” said Melissa, “and I 
thought — ” 

“ But surely thou dost not worship these, my 
sister,” said Placid ia. 

“No, not worship them, but — but they help 
me greatly, Placidia. I told Quadratus once of 
the difficulty I felt in remembering always the 
love and sympathy of the Lord Christ and — ” 

“ Did he tell thee that the statues of the old 
demon-gods would bring that love to thy mind ? ” 
interrupted Placidia. 

Melissa shook her head. “ He did not like 
the statues being retained in our household,” 
she said. “It was a woman from Thrace whom 
Lucullus bought to nurse Alypus, who told me 
how it helped her to understand the love of the 
Lord Christ — to think of the love and tender- 
ness of his mother. She had a little statue of 
Venus, which she placed in her chamber to help 
her think of this when she prayed, and I would 
fain have one, too, for I have sorely missed it 
since I have been journeying.” 


A Day in Antioch. 


83 


Placidia knew not what to say to these 
strange words of her sister’s. She had heard 
that some of the people of Thrace had placed 
the statues of Venus and Juno beside that of the 
Saviour, calling them the mother of the Lord, 
and holding them in almost equal reverence ; 
but that Melissa should do this, in the midst of 
enlightened Alexandria, was a puzzle indeed. 
What could she say against its use either if, as 
her sister said, it helped her to comprehend the 
love of Christ, for she knew what her own diffi- 
culties had been in this direction under the 
teaching of Athanasius. 

But there was not a statue in the house she 
knew, and she felt thankful that she could say 
so now, for she was by no means easy in her 
own mind as to this bowing before the old 
gods, it was too much like idolatry — too much 
like breaking the express command concerning 
graven images and their worship — and she ven- 
tured to tell Melissa this a few days afterward, 
for it was settled that she should remain at 
Antioch for the present, as there was some talk 
of the emperor visiting the city in the course 
of the summer, and if he came Quadratus would 
be sure to come with him, the sisters argued, 
and both were anxious to see him. 

Meanwhile Placidia continued her work of 
12 


1 84 Quadratus. 

visiting the lepers and the prison as usual, but 
she made very little impression on the old man, 
Victor. He was still detained, but had every 
liberty possible, although his fellow-conspirators 
had been executed, and his guards said he de- 
served a similar punishment, only his well- 
known leaning toward paganism had saved him. 
His fate would not be decidedly known until 
the emperor came himself to Antioch, when it 
was expected the old temples would be reopened 
with great splendor. 

Every body in the city was talking of this 
coming visit, but men laughed at the idea of re- 
viving the old worn-out idolatry, Julian might 
resuscitate the games of the arena, and they 
were willing enough to go to the theater; but to 
believe the old legends of the Olympian divin- 
ities was asking too much, now that the light 
of Christianity had been shed abroad. Ladies 
changed the fashion of their dresses and wore 
golden grasshoppers, in honor of Pallas Athene ; 
the men drank a little more and crowned their 
brows with vine leaves, for the sake of Bacchus ; 
but more than this the imperial edict could not 
do. A hundred cattle a day were slaughtered 
in Constantinople, it was rumored, and the 
emperor’s guards, who had sprinkled incense 
to Jupiter, had a continual feast, but Antioch 


A Day in Antioch. 


85 


was not at all disposed to follow this example. 
Some spectacle in honor of the old deities must 
be prepared when the emperor came, but cattle 
and splendid birds were too costly to be thrown 
away for nothing, and so the change of religion, 
as a national or state business, made little dif- 
ference at Antioch for some time. 

At length it was known that in June the em- 
peror might confidently be expected, and as the 
time drew near there was a bustle of prepara- 
tion for his coming. It was not to be a mere 
visit of pleasure, however, for he was about to 
renew the war with Persia, being assured of 
success by the augurs of Mars and Jupiter, so 
that his stay might be prolonged through the 
winter if all things were not favorable for the 
campaign to be commenced at once. This 
brought renewed hope that Quadratus might be 
in the imperial train, and Placidia and Melissa 
looked forward with anxious impatience to this 
meeting with their brother. 


86 


Quadratus. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


THE SHRINE OF DAPHNE. 

HE tidings came at* last that Julian was 



-L within a few miles of Antioch, and would 
enter the city the following morning, and John 
Chrysostom hearing the news hastened home 
to tell Placidia, for she and Melissa, as well as 
his mother, had determined to join the proces- 
sion of Christians who were going out to meet 
and welcome him. They had each been busy 
preparing festive robes for this occasion, for 
Arethusa had resolved to put off her widow’s 
dress for once, and she and Placidia would wear 
dresses embroidered with the miracle of Christ 
raising Lazarus from the dead, while Melissa 
wore one still more splendid in colors, but re- 
peating the same fact. 

John would walk with the readers and col- 
lectors of the church, who, with the bishop at 
their head, in his splendid -robes, and a long 
train of ecclesiastics and monks from the neigh- 
boring hills, hoped to disarm the emperor’s 
prejudices by this display of loyalty. The Jews, 
too, had been making active preparations to 


The Shrine of Daphne. 187 

welcome the emperor, while those who followed 
the old paganism would also muster in full 
force to-day, so that Antioch was in a state of 
excitement not often seen. 

But to the surprise of Arethusa and her 
friends, who left home just after sunrise to pro- 
ceed to the church, ‘ they met several people 
dressed in deep mourning, and as they went 
on these mourning robes grew more frequent, 
while the wearers cast wondering but angry 
glances at the splendid dresses worn by the 
little party of Christians. John, being at the 
school of Libanus, the great teacher of rhetoric, 
knew some of these as friends of his master, and 
after passing one of the groups he exclaimed, 
“ What can it mean, my mother } these are 
pagans, I know, and our emperor hath restored 
their religion, and yet they go forth to meet him 
with mourning robes.” Arethusa shook her 
head, greatly puzzled. Placida, however, scarce- 
ly noticed any thing ; she could only think of her 
brother, whom she had long mourned as dead, 
and was even more impatient than Melissa for 
the procession to move from the church. 

At last, with hymns of alleluia, they set for- 
ward on their stately march through the streets 
toward the gate by which Julian would enter, 
which was some distance from the church. 


1 88 Quadratus. 

Their way lay past the great temple of Jupiter, 
and as they drew near they saw a crowd col- 
lected around a lofty ivory car, every one wear- 
ing a mourning robe, and throwing ashes on 
his head. Little girls dressed in white, and 
carrying miniature gardens in baskets, stood 
round the car, but all the flowers in the baskets 
were drooping and faded, while on the ivory 
couch lay the dead Adonis. Slowly the Chris- 
tians comprehended the whole scene : — it was 
the mourning of Adonis, emblem of the sun, 
and the fading flowers were to typify the lan- 
guishing earth when the sun was in eclipse. 
Soft strains of mournful music accompanied the 
car, while behind came white-robed priests, with 
rent garments and ashes on their heads, and 
then the worshipers in mourning robes. 

As the procession from the church came up 
the car moved on, but it was impossible with 
such a concourse of people to prevent the two 
processions falling into one if they were to 
meet the emperor at the city gates, and so with 
much angry grumbling the Christians halted, 
drawing their dresses round them, as if fearing 
contamination, whenever one belonging to the 
other procession approached too near. 

“ Placidia, we will go back,” whispered Are- 
thusa ; “ this is no place for Christians, unless 


189 


The Shrine of Daphne. 

they would be partakers in idolatry;” and so, 
quietly leaving their places, they retraced their 
steps homeward, leaving John to follow the 
command of the bishop whether to go on or re- 
turn to the church. 

The sisters were greatly disappointed, but it 
was the only thing they could do at present, 
and so the flower-wreathed ivory car passed on 
toward the gate to welcome the emperor, while 
the Christians turned back to the church and 
bewailed that Julian had forsaken the faith he 
had professed and become an apostate. 

The emperor was pleased with the devotion 
of his subjects to the service of the gods, but 
he could not fail to notice that not a Christian 
was to be seen in the streets to bid him wel- 
come. But those who pressed forward most 
eagerly with their greetings were offended at 
his rough manners, his unkempt, tangled hair 
and beard, and his simple mode of dressing. 
No dainty, curled, and perfumed sybarite was 
Julian, but one who, in practice as well as in 
name, desired to be a philosopher and a devoted 
follower of the Greek divinities ; and so the 
gay, luxurious Antiochians soon grew tired of 
trying to please him, and followed their own 
pleasures without reference to their imperial 
visitor. 


1 90 Quadratus. 

Day by day Melissa went out with her sister 
in the hope of seeing some of the guards of the 
labarum ; but the cross, as the distinctive badge 
of the famous guard, had been abolished, and 
the Roman eagle once more took its place as 
of old, so that the sisters were puzzled to know 
whether these standard-bearers were in the 
emperor’s train, or were left behind to follow 
with the main body of the army. Nothing was 
seen or heard of Quadratus, and when th*e ex- 
citement of the emperor’s arrival had begun to 
wear away, and no tidings came of their brother, 
Melissa announced her intention of returning 
to Alexandria or of joining Alypus at Tagaste. 

“ But thou must not go until thou hast seen 
the tomb of our martyr-bishop, Babylas, at 
Daphne,” said John, who was present when she 
announced her intention to Arethusa. 

“ Nay, indeed, thou must see the groves of 
Daphne, where my husband is buried and where 
I hope to be laid,” said the widow. “Would it 
not be possible to spend a few days at the vil- 
lage, Placidia > the change of air would strength- 
en thy sister for her journey.” 

“ I might leave the city for a few days,” said 
Placidia, a little wearily. She felt the disap- 
pointment of not meeting her brother very 
keenly, and it had begun to tell upon her 


The Shrine of Daphne. 19 1 

health. The watchful eyes of Arethusa had 
noticed this change, and she was anxious to 
take her away from the city for a short time, 
where every thing reminded her of her recent 
disappointment. The emperor would not be at 
Daphne, he had so much business to transact 
just now, and the hated name of Julian, the 
apostate, might be forgotten. 

So the little household removed to the village 
of Daphne, about five miles off, where the 
groves of laurel and cypress cradled the little 
rills and springs that fed the Orontes, and 
where, in the fiercest noontide heat of that 
eastern summer, lone spots might be found so 
cool and shady, that the velvet moss upon the 
ground was as fresh and green as if watered by 
a perennial fountain. 

These almost impenetrable groves had been 
the scene of many a wild orgy in the days 
when Apollo was worshiped by the gay Anti- 
ochians, but his shrine was almost deserted 
now, and the dust of Christian martyrs and 
confessors had made the place sacred to hun- 
dreds of the citizens, a few of whom had settled 
on the borders of the grove, and thus a village 
had sprung up, which was often resorted to by 
those who wanted to get away from the noise 
and bustle of the city for a time. 


92 


Quadratus. 


Arethusa, therefore, had little difficulty in 
finding accommodation, but she heard to her 
dismay that the feast of Apollo was at hand, 
and that the emperor was expected to worship 
at the ancient shrine. That half Antioch would 
follow him was likewise expected ; but on the 
morning of the festival, when the first beams 
of the rising sun were gilding the tops of the 
trees, a small company was seen approaching, 
and, at the same time, an old priest in white 
robes, with a gray goose under his arm, made 
his way through the village street, and took the 
path toward the famous shrine. 

As the little company drew nearer, Arethusa 
recognized Julian by his long unkempt beard; 
but there were no lines of garlanded cattle or 
eager worshipers from the city, only a few 
guards in attendance upon the imperial pontiff, 
who looked round every now and then as if ex- 
pecting something or some one to appear. But 
nothing came, and the little company went on 
to th« shrine, where Apollo, cut from the purest 
marble, was bending over, pouring out a liba- 
tion upon the earth. Every thing around spoke 
of neglect and desertion, except where the white 
marble of the Christians’ tombs gleamed be- 
tween the dark foliage of the laurel and cypress. 
Arethusa and John had gone to visit the tomb 


The Shrine of Daphne 


193 


of the mariyr-bishop, Babilus, and from the 
slight elevation could see the little company 
gathered around the shrine, and the poor old 
priest coming forward with the best offering he 
could afford — the gray goose. “What!” ex- 
claimed Julian, “hast thou nothing for the di- 
vine Apollo but that poor common bird. Where 
are the cattle and the worshipers 

The old man shook his head mournfully. 
“ The Christians take all the cattle to feed the 
poor,” he said ; “ and as for worshipers, none 
come to this sacred shrine now.” 

Julian frowned. “ I thought I had estab- 
lished the old faith,” he said, “ but I find the 
altars every-where deserted.” 

“ If the loyal citizens of Antioch had known 
their imperial pontiff desired to officiate at the 
altar of Apollo they would doubtless have had 
all things made ready,” suggested his trusty 
friend Alypus, anxious to calm his rising anger. 

“But such service would have been for the 
emperor, not for the god,” said Julian ; “ that 
was why I kept my determination 10 visit this 
shrine a secret from all, for I would fain know 
whether men had returned to their old allegi- 
ance, and now what do I see — this most sacred 
spot, .that should be tended with all care, dirty, 

* See Frontispiece. 


194 Quadratus. 

weed-grown, and deserted, one old priest in- 
stead of a thousand devout worshipers, and a 
poor gray goose, to represent the gratitude of 
the wealthiest city in Asia.” 

“ But that is not the worst, most noble Ju- 
lian,” the old priest ventured to say. “ This 
shrine is not only neglected, but profaned by 
the dead bodies of those infamous Christians. 

• Their bishop, Babilus, was the first buried at 
Daphne, but his grave was scarcely closed before 
others were brought to be laid beside him, and 
now many are brought every week from Antioch.” 
As he spoke he pointed to where Arethusa and 
her son were still carefully tending the graves of 
friends and relatives, who had been laid to rest 
in this sequestered spot, and the next minute 
the leafy screen surrounding it was rudely 
pulled aside, and a party of the imperial guard, 
led by the old priest, leaped through the gap 
and went at once to the bishop’s grave. 

To pull down the tomb which loving hands had 
raised to his memory was the work of a very few 
minutes ; and while John and his mother stood 
almost transfixed with horror, the body of the 
aged martyr was dragged out and thrown into 
a neglected corner, and the rest of the graves 
trampled upon, and the tombs broken and de- 
faced. 


195 


The Shrine of Daphne. 

The widow made her escape as soon as she 
could, and returned to the village ; and as soon 
as John had seen her safely home he set off to 
Antioch to inform the bishop and his friends of 
what had taken place at Daphne, anger lending 
swiftness to his feet, so that the five miles 
were traversed and the bishop informed of 
all the circumstances before midday. Before 
nightfall every Christian in Antioch had heard 
of it, and had gone forward to meet the car that 
had been sent out to convey the body to the 
city. Every street was crowded with eager, 
angry people, pressing on behind the long line 
of monks and church choristers, who met the 
car at the city gates singing, “ All the gods of 
the nations are idols, but the Lord made the 
heavens.” Defiance was hurled at the emperor 
in the songs of David, the bishop and presbyters 
riding on white mules near the car, and select- 
ing those that should be sung as they passed 
through the street. 

Placidia shook her head when she heard of the 
triumphant display. “ I am glad thou hast re- 
turned, John,” she said, “ for I am afraid we 
have not seen the end of this business yet.” 

“ Nay, but what wouldst thou have us do, Pla- 
cidia,” demanded John. 

“Julian is our emperor, as thou knowest.” 


196 Quadratus. 

“ Nay, but thou wouldst not have us worship 
Apollo at the bidding of the emperor,” said the 
lad. “ I — I should not wonder if this shrine 
were destroyed by a miracle after what has 
happened.” 

“ Nay, my John, talk not so rashly,” said his 
mother ; “ it is well thou hast left Antioch, 
or that ready tongue might bring trouble 
upon all of us ; ” and it was arranged that 
they should prolong their stay at Daphne 
instead of returning the next day, as they had 
intended. 

It was well they had made this arrangement, 
for the events of the following night were 
fraught with consequences that few anticipated, 
and would have made John’s incautious words 
more than ever dangerous if they had been 
overheard. The night was very hot, and even 
here in Daphne there was scarcely a breath 
of air stirring the leaves. Placidia, who was 
very restless, rose from her couch soon after 
midnight and opened the little casement of her 
room to admit more air, and as she did so a 
bright, luminous ball of fire appeared to dart 
across the sky in the direction of the famous 
shrine. Looking earnestly, she soon saw flames 
and smoke curling upward toward the star-stud- 
ded heavens, and in a moment John’s words 


The Shrine of Dapime. 197 

recurred to her mind, for she knew at once that 
it was on fire. 

The whole village was soon astir, but there 
was no hope of saving the matchless statue of 
Apollo ; and when the sun rose the whole 
shrine was a blackened heap of ruins. 

Doubtless many in Antioch rejoiced when 
they heard what had happened ; but the songs 
of triumph in which they celebrated it were 
soon stifled by the sighs and groans of anxious 
alarm, for whatever they might believe as to 
the cause of the fire, Julian accused them of 
having done it, and at once proceeded to find 
out, if possible, the actual culprit. It needed 
but this to set his smoldering anger in a blaze 
of persecution, and now many a peaceful citi- 
zen in Antioch, whose only crime was singing 
the Psalms of David when the body of Babilus 
was brought into the city, found himself in 
prison, and his goods carried off to pay the taxes 
imposed for the support of paganism. 

The church itself was almost stripped like- 
wise, for many of the ornaments had been taken 
from the pagan temple, and now had to be re- 
stored, as well as the building itself, at the sole 
cost of the Christian Church. In vain the bishop 
pleaded for his flock. Julian pointed with a 
mocking smile to the costly gold chains and 


198 


Quadratus. 


jeweled trappings of his white mule, and told 
him to learn the blessedness of poverty on which 
he so often preached, and truly it did seem that 
the Church needed the lesson just now. 

Arethusa, in her quiet retreat of Daphne, 
heard of all these troubles, and would fain have 
returned to her city home and taken her share 
of affliction with the rest ; but Placidia and John 
together persuaded her to remain where she 
was. She could still pay her quota of the heavy 
taxes, and help support those who needed the 
bounty of the Church, and to do this would be 
of far more use than to place herself in need- 
less danger. 


The Victory of the Vanquished. 199 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE VICTORY OF THE VANQUISHED. 

S LOWLY the days dragged on in the quiet 
little village of Daphne, where Arethiisa 
and her family still lingered, for they knew not 
but that they might be seized and thrown into 
prison if they ventured to return to the city. 
The cathedral was closed and the public wor- 
ship of God suspended, while long lines of gar- 
landed cattle might be seen every morning 
slowly passing through the streets toward the 
temple of Jupiter for sacrifice. 

John was the only one to bring them any 
news of what was going on in the city, for he 
generally contrived to obtain some information 
each day in his wanderings up and down the 
slopes of the hills that divided them from their 
old home, and here he often met a solitary 
monk returning to his lonely cell after visiting 
his afflicted brethren in the city. Sometimes 
the news thus obtained was more cheering. 
The prison doors had been opened for one or 
two, and they had been allowed to depart, and 
then Arethusa would talk of returning to their 
13 


200 Quadratus. 

city home, that John might resume his studies 
under Libanus ; but before any definite arrange- 
ments could be made for this a message of 
warning would come from the bishop or some 
friend begging them to stay a little longer in 
safety, and this was generally accompanied by 
a story of cruel mutilation or violent death, and 
that Julian was fast becoming a fierce persecu- 
tor. A little later and the wonder at this was 
lost in the startling intelligence that the em- 
peror had undertaken to restore the Temple at 
Jerusalem, and had sent an army of workmen 
to clear away the ruins and rubbish from the 
ancient site. 

Placidia turned pale when John came in one 
day and brought this news, but his mother^ only 
smiled at what she considered as his mistake. 
“ It is folly to suppose Julian would do such a 
thing as that,” she said ; “ who could have told 
thee such a foolish tale, my son ? ” 

“ Nay, but it is not a foolish tale, mother. 
The Jews are even now preparing for a grand 
festival in honor of the emperor, and there will 
be great rejoicings. Several monks told me 
this.” 

Arethusa glanced at Placidia. “Can it be 
that the prophecy of the old Jewish slave-dealer 
is to be verified .? ” she whispered. 


Tkc Victory of the Vanquished. 20 1 

But John, with a boy’s eagerness to tell all 
the news, would not wait for Placidia to speak. 
“ The Christians will soon be entirely crushed, 
they say, for they are not to be allowed to hold 
any public office, and heavy taxes will be im- 
posed upon them to support the pagan temples.” 

“ Nay, nay, my son ; it cannot be so bad as 
that,” said the widow hopefully, and noticing 
how deeply affected Placidia looked. 

John noticed her altered looks, too, and said 
quickly, “ What is it, my Placidia ; art thou ill ? ” 

“ No, not ill ; but this news about the Jewish 
temple, art thou quite sure it is true ? ” 

“Yes, I could not be mistaken, for I saw a 
number of Jews set off on their journey south- 
ward while I was talking to a monk near the 
city gates.” 

His mother looked up quickly. “Thou must 
not venture too near the city, my son,” she said 
in an anxious tone. It was chiefly on his ac- 
count that she was still staying at Daphne, 
for she feared some one besides herself might 
have heard his incautious speech about the 
shrine being miraculously destroyed, and if it 
were reported to the emperor John would in- 
evitably be seized and thrown into prison. 

Placidia, who knew how anxious Arethusa 
was about this, now proposed that they should 


202 QuADRATUS. 

leave Daphne and journey southward too. Me- 
lissa was anxious to reach Alexandria, for news 
had come that their beloved bishop, Athanasius, 
had once more been restored to his flock, and so 
a time of peace might confidently be expected 
in the city as well as in the Church, for he was 
greatly beloved by all classes. So Placidia per- 
suaded Arethusa that a journey as far as Jeru- 
salem would be very agreeable just now, even 
if they did not go all the way to Egypt. 

John was, of course, delighted at the plan, 
until he suddenly remembered that Placidia 
might wish to stay in her native city. 

“ Nay, if I went to Alexandria 1 should not 
stay, for there are none there now who would 
care to see Placidia, while here — ” 

“ We could not spare thee from Antioch long,” 
interrupted John, ‘‘for thou art the best nurse 
to the sick and the best comforter to the sor- 
rowful. I have heard it again and again from 
the deacons that no one is so welcome among 
the poor as Placidia, my mother’s friend. Did 
any ever know thou wert a slave ? ” he asked in 
a subdued tone. 

“ Yes, it is no secret among our friends,” an- 
swered Placidia ; “ but it was not mentioned to 
thee until lately, because thy mother set me at 
liberty at the time of her marriage, when she 


The Victory of the Vanquished. 203 

received me from her father, and it was painful 
to her to hear me speak of my captivity.” 

“ And thou wert a lady, a nun, and a slave,” 
said John musingly. 

“Yes, but above all a Christian,” said Pla- 
cidia ; “ and to serve the Lord Christ by any 
means hath been the aim of my life.” 

“ And — and thou couldst serve the Lord bet- 
ter as a slave than as a nun } ” asked John. 

“ Yes, better in the world than in the desert,” 
said Placidia decidedly. “ It may seem strange, 
too, but I have lived nearer the Lord, enjoyed 
closer and sweeter communion with him, since 
I have been busy helping others than when I 
shut myself up in the tower at home and vainly 
thought to shut the world out.” 

“ Was it in vain, then } ” asked the lad. 

“Yes, for I took my world with me — my 
pride — for I was very proud in those days. 
What is thy world, John .^” she asked with a 
grave smile. 

The boy shook his head. “ Whatever it is, 
thou wouldst say I shall take it with me to the 
monastery and have to fight against it there,” 
he said. 

“ Fight or yield,” said Placidia, “ putting on 
a monk’s dress doth not insure us the victory, 
or we should not have so many proud, arrogant, 


204 Quadratus. 

ignorant monks as the Church is now troubled 
with." 

“ And thou thinkest it is better — nobler — to 
fight against our world — our besetting sins — 
while doing ordinary every-day work," said John 
thoughtfully. 

“Yes, I do; and thou knowest what thy 
mother thinketh about it, John Chrysostom." 
Placidia always used his surname if she wished 
to be particularly impressive. 

“ Yes," answered John, “I have feared some- 
times that my mother would break her heart if 
I became a monk," and he stooped and dipped 
his fingers in the marble basin of the fountain 
near which he was sitting. 

The widow had left the inner court,where they 
were sitting, to talk to Melissa about the proposed 
journey, so that he could talk freely to Placidia 
upon this topic, which lately had become an all- 
absorbing one in his thoughts. “ I am afraid it 
would almost kill my mother," he went on, 
“ and yet I do not see why it should." 

“ Ah, thou knowest nothing of the great love 
she hath for thee," said Placidia. “Thou d jst 
forget that thou art her only child, and that for 
thy sake — to watch over thee and give thee the 
best education in her power — she hath volunta- 
rily lived a life of widowhood ever since she was 


The Victory of the Vanquished. 205 

twenty — she was not twenty when thy father, 
Secundus, died and left thee an infant to her 
care. He was a noble soldier, John, but not so 
noble as thy mother.” 

“ Nobody could be as noble as she, thou 
knowest,” rejoined the boy warmly. “ I heard 
my teacher speak of her one day, and he said, 
‘ What wives these Christians have ! ’ ” 

“Yes, she is the noblest woman in Antioch,” 
said Placidia. 

“And to break her heart woald be wicked in- 
deed. Placidia, thou shalt tell her that I will 
not ask again to be a monk ; I will go on with 
my study of the law, be the best lawyer in An- 
tioch, perhaps, if she lives ; but — -but if she 
should die I think I must fly from the world.” 

The conversation was here interrupted by the 
return of Arethusa with Melissa. She was, of 
course, delighted at the thought of setting out 
on her journey homeward, for she had begun to 
grow weary of Antioch before the emperor came, 
and now she was still more impatient to hasten 
her departure. 

So after several plans had been discussed, it 
was at length decided that Arethusa should pay 
a visit to the city, to arrange with a family of 
Jews whom she had befriended to travel with 
them and make all the needful changes in her 


2o6 . Quadratus. 

household. John and Placidia would both have 
accompanied her, but she would not hear of it. 
There was less danger for her to travel alone, 
she said, and so after walking with her for a 
short distance they returned to the village, and 
the widow went on in her litter alone. 

As soon as the city gates were reached the 
news was confirmed that Julian, to vex the 
Christians, had professed himself the friend and 
patron of the Jews, and to prove the worthless- 
ness of the prophecy which foretold their con- 
tinued dispersion and the prostration of their 
temple and worship, undertook to restore them 
to their own land and rebuild the temple. Nu- 
merous other edicts were talked of as having been 
issued, but all of the same tendency — to put 
down the Christian religion at all costs and ele- 
vate Paganism to its old position. But men 
laughed at the attempt to revive what had been 
worn out long before, and which scarcely need- 
ed the light of the Gospel to push it from its 
place. 

So the struggle soon resolved itself into this — 
Christianity or no religion at all ; for, of course, 
Judaism was for the Jews, and no one thought 
of it as applicable to any other nation. 

Meanwhile the Christians of Antioch gave 
themselves to prayer and fasting, humbling 


The Victory of the Vanquished. 207 

themselves before the Lord in their affliction, 
patiently submitting themselves to the new pre- 
fect and magistrates, paying the taxes imposed, 
and bearing as meekly as they could the gibes 
and jeers of the triumphant Jews, for whom 
every thing went on merrily just now. Pagan- 
ism was dead, they knew, and nothing could re- 
vive its corpse, and the death-blow had been 
struck at this hateful Christianity, and their 
glorious temple was to be rebuilt at Jerusalem. 
What was to prevent them regaining their old 
power, and having seated one of the royal race 
of David on the ancient throne, make the rest 
of the nations tributary — even Julian himself 
would be little better than an emperor in name 
only when that glorious day should dawn. 

This was the dream of many a busy, plotting 
Jewish brain in Antioch as they gathered their 
wealth of gold, silver, and slaves and prepared 
for their emigration. In the poorer quarter of 
the town their brethren were not less busy, for 
giving up the practice of magic and fortune- 
telling, buying and selling small wares that 
yielded a large profit, they packed up what they 
could not convert into money and took their 
way to the ruined city of their forefathers — not 
now to weep over its desolation, but with songs 
of rejoicing to raise again the ancient walls and 


208 


Quadratus. 


build its stately streets, and look forward to the 
lime when the noise of boys and girls at play 
there should cheer the hearts of its inhabitants. 
To labor at clearing away the rubbish of the 
ruins was not felt as a hardship by these peddling, 
huckstering Jews, unaccustomed as they were 
to manual toil of any kind, for love lightened 
their labor, and the hope of seeing Jerusalem 
the joy and wonder of the whole earth made 
every hardship of small account. 

To build again the temple itself was the 
special aim of Julian, for in doing this he knew 
he should strike a blow at Christianity that 
would be keenly felt, even if it were not abso- 
lutely fatal to its continuance, for it had been 
prophesied that the temple should remain deso- 
late and the Jews dispersed, and to prove this 
false was the great aim of the apostate, for he 
had little love for the Jews themselves. So a 
large number of skilled workmen had been en- 
gaged to clear the spot where the sacred build- 
ing once stood, that wonder of the world that 
all the care and energy of the conquering Titus 
failed to save from such utter destruction that 
not one stone was left upon another, and it was 
not certainly known Just where it was situated. 

When these imperial laborers arrived from 
Cesarea they were met with songs of welcome 


The Victory of the Vanquished. 209 

from the assembled Jews, and they may have 
thought that here they were secure from the 
greed and rapacity of the money-loving people ; 
but if so they were mistaken, for such a good 
opportunity of driving bargains was not to be 
lost, and the peddling and money-lending, for- 
tune-telling, and slave-dealing went on as brisk- 
ly round the sacred ruins as in the streets of 
Antioch or Constantinople. 

Among those assembled here were some of 
the family of old Deborah, and now that her 
oft-repeated words seemed likely to be fulfilled, 
they spoke of her as a “ wise woman,” a proph- 
etess, to whom it was an honor to belong ; and 
with this came the recollection of an oath she 
had made them swear before she died, that 
when her prophecy should be fulfilled they 
should bring her body and lay it in the sacred 
earth of her native land. 

They were discussing when and how this had 
better be done, and whether it would be possi- 
ble to have her tomb within sight of the new 
temple, when their attention was attracted by 
signs of confusion on the distant mound of rub- 
bish and ruined columns. 

“ Only some miserable Gentile quarrel,” re- 
marked one contemptuously. 

“ Nay, nay, it is more than that, for the men 


210 


Quadratus. 


are leaving their work in hot haste and flying 
down the hill,” said another, after gazing stead- 
ily toward the spot for several minutes. 

His companions looked as though they doubt- 
ed him, and rose from their seats inside the tent 
and came and stood near the entrance them- 
selves. “Yes, they are leaving certainly,” re- 
marked one. “ Can the emperor have been 
bought over by these Christians, thinkest thou } ” 
he added, looking at his friends in perplexity : 
“if so, the Jews must outbid them — wealth is 
power — the only power we possess as yet ; and 
we must use that to gain the rest — the throne 
of our fathers — and then — then — ” the speaker 
spread his arms abroad and gazed across the 
valley to the city of ruins — “ Jerusalem shall be 
the joy of the whole earth and the mistress of 
nations, and the God of Abraham, Isaac, and 
Jacob shall rule them with a rod of iron.” 

From these splendid dreams of his fallen 
country’s greatness he was recalled by seeing a 
party of men running toward them. 

“ What is it } What hath happened } ” asked 
several in a breath, stepping forward to meet 
them. 

“ Fire, fire ! ” shouted the new comers. 

“ Where is it } we see no fire,” replied the 
others, looking across toward the ruins. 


The Victory of the Vanquished. 2 1 1 

“ It is there ; the men are flying from it,” 
and they rushed on as though a fiery- deluge 
were in swift pursuit. 

“ It is a Nazarene trick to prevent the temple 
from being rebuilt. I will go myself and see 
what hath caused all this confusion,” said the Jew; 
and leaving the others in charge of the tent and 
the rich store of silk and other merchandise 
they had brought with them, he hastened down 
the slope toward the spot from which every 
one was flying. In a short time, however, he 
returned, looking sadly perplexed and disturbed. 
“ There is fire it is certain,” he said. “ I have 
seen it myself leaping up and licking round the 
ruins, but how it came there I know not.” 

‘‘ And thou didst not ask ! ” exclaimed one of 
his companions. 

“ Nay, I needed not to ask, for these Gen- 
tile dogs are crying that it came down from 
heaven.” 

“ And thou dost believe them ! ” 

“Am I a Nazarene — a follower of the car- 
penter’s son } ” asked he in bitter scorn. “ Nay, 
nay, they may tell me what they please, but I say 
I know not whence it came, but that it shall 
speedily be extinguished I swear, and the em- 
peror informed of this Nazarene trick to stop 
the work of building.” 


212 QuADRATUS. 

To extinguish the mysterious fire became the 
first thought of the Jews now, and they labored 
unremittingly — carrying water and pouring it 
over every mound of rubbish, and heaping earth 
and mud wherever a tiny flame appeared, and by 
this means the flames were at length subdued, 
and in a few days the workmen once more 
ventured to pick up their tools and recom- 
mence the work of clearing the fallen stones 
and rubbish from the sacred site — the Jews 
watching with jealous eyes lest another trick 
should be played upon them and the work 
hindered. 

But in spite of their eager, anxious watching, 
the alarm was soon spread again that the fire 
had broken out afresh and with renewed vigor, 
some having fallen into the flames and been 
seriously burned this time. The Jews, how- 
ever, were prepared for this, and by dint of 
great energy and care prevented the panic from 
spreading very far, so that only a few ran ofif in 
terror, and they were induced to return upon 
the promise of a liberal reward to assist in ex- 
tinguishing the flames. 

But it was all in vain. Extinguished in one 
place the flames broke out in another, leaping, 
dancing, licking over the stones, as if claiming 
them as their own, and holding them in a fiery 


The Victory of the Vanquished, 213 

embrace. Even the Jews began to quail now, 
but they would not let the panic-stricken 
workmen see it, but talked of Nazarene tricks 
still, and urged the men, by alternate threats 
of the emperor’s displeasure and promises 
of their own gold, to commence work once 
more. 

A few were induced to pick up their tools, 
and recommence the unequal contest, while the 
rest stood in anxious crowds to see the result 
of this before they ventured upon what seemed 
to them not only a dangerous, but an almost 
impious attempt to fight against God. 

And truly it seemed as though God was 
fighting against this, for no sooner was a little 
of the debris removed than the flames leaped 
forth again, many in their excitement declar- 
ing they could see them descend from the sky 
before they leaped up from the earth. But 
whether from fire-damp or some other unex- 
plained cause, certain it was that the more the 
men dug the higher the flames leaped forth, 
until at length none would venture near the 
spot, and the undertaking had to be abandoned, 
for the present at least. 

A bitter wail of disappointment was raised 
when the anxious Jews heard this decision, 
and many of them accused the Christians of 


214 Quadratus. 

practicing magic, saying that the fire had been 
caused by the intervention of Satan in their 
favor. 

‘‘It was well we did not bring the body of 
Deborah with us,” said his kinsman as he sadly 
turned from the scene of desolation around 
which so many hopes clustered and had been 
crushed. 

“ Her prophecy is not likely to be fulfilled 
yet, Onias,” said another, with a deep-drawn 
sigh. 

“ Thinkest thou the emperor will make an- 
other attempt ? ” 

“ I fear the Christians will outbid us. They 
are rich now, and not the despicable sect they 
were sixty years ago.” 

“ True, they are rich, Onias,” assented his 
friend. 

“But Julian hateth them for helping to mur- 
der his relatives, and will crush them by any 
means.” 

“ If — he — can,” said the other slowly. “ I 
have watched this movement, my Abdiel, and 
thou hast but to think of one man, and the 
changes and chances of his life, to know that 
the Church will not bow to the emperor 
always. Look at the patriarch of Alexandria, 
Athanasius. Three times hath he been banished 


The Victory of the Vanquished. 2 1 5 

for withstanding the edicts of one emperor or 
the other, and is at last recalled by Julian to be 
once more the idol of Alexandria.” 

“ Then thou thinkest these Christians possess 
so much power that Julian dare not renew the 
attempt.’” 

“ Nay, I said not so ; for I hope, as hundreds 
of our countrymen do, that we shall yet regain 
our ancient power by means of our enslaver — 
Rome. Yes, yes, we will hope for this,” he 
said, rousing himself with sudden energy ; “ we 
must wait and watch and plot and scheme, and, 
above all things, gain wealth a little longer, only 
a little longer, and then the name of Nazarene 
shall be trampled out of the earth.” 

Very different was the scene in the next 
tent to that occupied by this party of Jews, 
for there our friends from Daphne sat silent, 
but with rejoicing hearts. John could hardly 
be restrained from singing aloud one of the 
Psalms of David when he knew that the attempt 
to rebuild the temple had so signally failed. 

“ Placidia, I must say it if I cannot sing it,’’ 
he said at last, and with a glowing face and 
flashing eyes he repeated the first part of the 
ninety-eighth Psalm: “O sing unto the Lord a 
new song ; for he hath done marvelous things : 
his right hand, and his holy arm, hath gotten 
14 


2i6 Quadratus. 

him the victory. The Lord hath made known 
his salvation : his righteousness hath he openly 
showed in the sight of the heathen.” 

I am not afraid of old Deborah’s prophecy 
now,” whispered Placidia, turning to Arethusa ; 
“ the spell is broken at last, and I know that 
Christianity will triumph.” 


Monica and her Son. 


217 


CHAPTER XVI. 

MONICA AND HER SON. 

HE first rays of the rising sun were glanc- 



-L ing through the topmost boughs of an 
ancient and stately grove, that formed a leafy 
screen around Tagaste’s temple of Isis, and 
closed it in from the din and bustle of the 
town. The white marble of the temple could 
as yet be seen but dimly in the early light, but 
the sacred Ibis had been aroused from her nest 
and was now stalking up and down in front of 
the altar, around which flamen and sacrificing 
priests were already busy. On a pedestal in 
the interior building stood Isis and the mys- 
tic Orus, but they were not the only Egyptian 
deities that graced the shrine. The dog-headed 
Anubis, and the ox Apis, besides more uncouth 
idols, were here in silent, solemn majesty ; while 
beyond the rail that divided the worshipers from 
the officiating priests stood an eager company 
of merchants, who had come to consult the 
goddess of commerce and agriculture upon their 
plans, and to learn, if possible, what success 
would attend their different ventures. 


2i8 Quadratus. 

One of those most eager to reach the divid- 
ing-rail was Patricius Augustinus, a citizen of 
Tagaste, who led by the hand his only son, 
Aurelius, a boy about ten years old, who was 
more occupied with watching the movements 
of the priests, and occasionally treading on 
the bystanders’ toes, than with any thought 
about the sacredness of the place or the present 
solemnities. 

It was about this boy that Patricius desired 
to consult the goddess, for he was quick and 
clever, and gave promise of being an eminent 
lawyer, or rhetorician, if his father could only 
provide the means of giving him a good educa- 
tion, and — one other “if” — he could make up his 
mind to overcome his idle, mischievous habits. 

Augustine — for by this name he is most gen- 
erally known — was not a good boy, and he 
knew that this visit to the temple of Isis would 
deeply grieve his mother ; for although his father 
was a heathen and worshiper of the old gods 
of Egypt, Monica was a devout and earnest 
Christian, and sorely grieved at the wayward- 
ness of her son as well as the passionate obsti- 
nacy of her husband. Whatever the oracle of 
Isis might give in the way of encouragement 
to other worshipers, Patricius was pleased with 
the answer he obtained this morning. 


Minoca and her Son. 


219 


“ The son of Tagaste will live in the memory 
of nations yet unborn,” pronounced the seer, 
who happened to know young Augustine, and 
doubtless thought if his augury did not suit 
this boy it would some other at all events ; and 
so, after the sacrifice had been offered, the 
incense burned, and the customary rite com- 
pleted, Patricius and his son returned home in 
time to meet Monica as she came from church. 

“ Where hast thou been so early, my Patri- 
cius ” asked the lady timidly as she took 
Augustine’s- hand and looked anxiously down 
at his merry but determined face. 

I have been to the temple of Isis,” said the 
boy before his father could reply ; “ and — and 
what did the oracle say, my father.?” he asked, 
turning to Patricius. 

“ Not that thou wouldst be a Christian. So 
thou mayest as well give up thy prayers, Mo- 
nica, and let the boy have his own way,” he 
said, speaking to his wife in no very pleasant 
tone. 

The lady did not reply for fear these angry 
words should be followed by blows, but silently 
shook her head and clasped the little hand she 
held tighter within her own as they silently 
walked through the busy streets of Tagaste to 
their home. 


220 Quadratus. 

It seemed that Monica was to be more than 
usually tried this morning, for her husband’s 
mother, who lived with them, and who hated 
her because of her strong attachment to Chris- 
tianity, met her with bitter reproaches about 
various little domestic matters, the cause of 
which was explained a little later when a friend 
called to ask if she were ready to accompany 
her to the house of another friend, to whom 
Monica was strongly attached. “ I did not 
know thou wert going,” said Monica in a little 
surprise. 

“ Nay, but Alypus, her husband, came this 
morning to tell thee of their sore trouble, and ask 
if thou wouldst go to them, and take Augus- 
tine with thee, to spend a few hours at least.” 

“ Then it was while I was at church, and my 
mother saw him,” rejoined Monica quickly. “ Is 
our Parthenia sick again .?” she added. 

“ Nay, it is ill tidings concerning the mother 
of Alypus that hath just reached them ; and as 
thou hast heard Parthenia was not very kind to 
her in Alexandria, she blames herself as the 
cause of her going on this pilgrimage to Jeru- 
salem, instead of following her son to Tagaste, 
as every one thought she would.” 

“ My Parthenia may be to blame — she her- 
self says she was very blameworthy, but it may 


Monica and her Son. 


221 


be her mother was not less so,” and Monica 
sighed as she thought how her life was often 
embittered, and how hard it was to please her 
husband’s mother sometimes. She scarcely 
knew whether she ought to leave home now, 
even for a few hours, as the old lady was so 
cross ; but again thinking of her friend’s trouble 
she resolved to go to her chamber and consult 
with her, and so, while her friend rested in the 
inner court, she went to see her. 

She returned in a short time bringing Au- 
gustine with her, for he had long been promised 
this visit to his young friend Adeodatus. 

“Now, tell me all the tidings Alypus brought 
this morning,” said Monica when they had left 
the house and were fairly on their way. “ Who 
brought the news concerning his mother,” she 
asked. 

“ One of the slaves who went with her on 
this pilgrimage. She was obliged to sell her at 
Damascus she says, for Melissa was taken ill 
while on her way to Antioch.” 

“To Antioch !” repeated Monica; “but where- 
fore did she wish to go to Antioch } ” 

“ To meet her brother, who is one of the em- 
peror’s guards — a guard of the sacred labarum — 
but that, as thou knowest, hath been laid aside 
by Julian.” 


222 QuADRATUS. 

Monica sighed. “ These are evil times,” she 
said, glancing at her boy as she spoke. “ Did 
Melissa reach Antioch 

“ Nay, Alypus knows nothing concerning his 
mother but the tidings this slave hath brought, 
and she left her ill in the hospital at Damascus, 
and Parthenia is grieving sorely, and saying she 
hath caused her death.” 

On reaching the house of Alypus Augustine 
went in search of Adeodatus, who was in the 
garden, and here the two boys talked over the 
visit to the temple of Isis, and Augustine re- 
counted his father’s ambitious hopes on his 
account. 

“ And thou art to be a learned, eloquent 
man,” said Adeodatus thoughtfully. “ I won- 
der whether the oracle spoke truly.” 

“ I know not — I do not believe in Isis or the 
priests,” said Augustine. “ I wish I could !” 

His companion looked surprised. “ Thou 
dost wish to be a heathen ! ” he said. 

“Yes, but I cannot; my father is, as thou 
knowest, and he is like the rest, he drinks wine 
and grows angry and cheats when he can, and 
—and—” 

“ Nay, thou wouldst not say thou dost wish 
to do the same,” interrupted his friend. 

Augustine blushed and looked confused. “ I 


Monica and her Son. 


223 


do and I do not,” he said ; “ for I want to en- 
joy life — go to the theater and banquets, and 
drink wine, like my father, by and by ; but — 
but—” 

‘‘What more wouldst thou say, Augustine?” 
asked his companion, looking greatly shocked. 

“ My mother will not let me. She does not 
know of these wishes, but she will not let me 
be happy now when I have done any thing 
wrong, for she prays — Adeodatus, thou knowest 
not how hard she prays.” 

“ And God will answer her prayer, Augustine. 
Imogene, our nurse, hath talked to us a great 
deal about this. I wish thou couldst hear her 
sometimes.” 

“ And I wish thou couldst hear my mother 
sometimes,” said Augustine, “ she almost makes 
me want to be a Christian, only I w^nt to be 
angry, too, when my father and grandmother 
are so cross and scold her. Her God is the 
true God, I know, and I mean to love and serve 
him by and by, as my mother does, but I must 
enjoy the world a little first. I have prayed 
about this — asked the Lord Christ to change 
my heart by and by, but I do not want to be a 
Christian just yet.” 

“ But, Augustine, suppose there should be no 
by and by — suppose the plague should come 


224 Quadratus. 

again, as it did last year, and thou shouldst be 
stricken with death,” said Adeodatus solemnly. 

Augustine shuddered and turned pale for a 
moment, but he soon shook off this momentary 
fear and said, “ O, never mind the plague ! let 
us play under this apple-tree and forget such 
dull things. These apples are ripe,” he said, 
looking up at the tempting fruit. 

“ My father does not think they are quite 
ripe enough to be plucked,” said Adeodatus, 
glancing upward, and then he proposed that 
they should go to an arbor at a little distance. 

But Augustine looked longingly up at the 
branches. “ I like apples,” he said wistfully. 

“ We shall have some when Imogene comes,” 
said Adeodatus, moving away from the tree as 
he spoke, while, at the same moment, Augustine 
picked up a stone and threw it among the 
branches. It came down again at his feet, and 
with it, rustling through the leaves, came an 
apple as well. He picked it up and ran after 
his companion, but hid the apple in the folds 
of his loose robe until they had reached the 
arbor. 

Adeodatus stared when he took it out. “I 
do not think my father would like us to pluck 
those apples.” 

“ He need not be troubled,” said Augustine 


Monica and her Son. 


225 


coolly. “ Thou canst have a few apples, I should 
think, without telling him. Thou shalt have 
this and I will go and fetch another,” and be- 
fore Adeodatus could speak he had ran back to 
the tree, and another apple came falling through 
the branches to the ground. 

“ We must make haste and eat them,” said 
Adeodatus. 

Augustine began to eat it at once, but he did 
not enjoy the taste of the rich, ripe fruit, it was 
quite evident, and his companion was not great- 
ly surprised to see him throw more than half of 
it over the wall. His own soon followed, and 
then the two boys sat and looked at each other 
for a minute or two without speaking. 

“What art thou thinking of.?” asked Augus- 
tine, at last trying to throw off the miserable 
feeling that oppressed him. 

For answer Adeodatus burst into tears. “I 
can never be a monk now,” he said, “ and I can 
never talk to Imogene about it again. O, Au- 
gustine ! we have been stealing, and Imogene 
will be so sorry when 1 tell her.” 

“ But thou art not obliged to tell her,” said 
Augustine, stoutly trying to overcome his own 
disposition to cry. The effort, however, was a 
failure, and the next minute he sobbed out, “ O, 
mother, my mother, I have sinned again ; I 


226 Quadratus. 

cannot keep from sinning continually, and I 
cannot be happy in my sin.” 

“Thank God, then, my son,” said a voice at 
his elbow, and looking up, Augustine saw Imo- 
gene, the nurse, of whom his companion had 
spoken. 

She was a slave and not very young, and evi- 
dently a foreigner, from her fair complexion and 
the peculiar accent with which she spoke the 
Greek tongue. 

Augustine started and looked confused when 
he saw her gazing at him with her clear, search- 
ing blue eyes, but she only laid her hand ten- 
derly on his head and said in a gentle voice, 
“ Thou art Aurelius Augustinus, the son of 
Monica.” 

“ Dost thou know my mother ? ” asked Au- 
gustine. 

“ Nay, but I have heard of her as a pattern 
to all wives and mothers in Tagaste, and thou 
wilt thank God some day that Monica was thy 
mother.” 

Glancing at her own charge, she saw that he 
looked disturbed and uncomfortable as well as 
Augustine. “ What hath happened, my Adeo- 
datus ? Thou art unhappy, I can see,” and she 
sat down and drew the child toward her. 

But Adeodatus resisted the caress. “ I am 


Monica and her Son. 


227 


not worthy, Imogene,” he sobbed. “ I have 
soiled my baptismal robes with sin this day, and 
can never become a holy monk.” 

“And is it the first time, thinkest thou, that 
they have been soiled — thy white garments of 
baptism.^” asked Imogene tenderly. 

Adeodatus looked surprised. “ I have been 
guilty of a great sin,” he sobbed. 

“Not greater than Christ’s blood can wash 
away,” replied Imogene. “ Thou hast never felt 
that thou hadst committed sin before, and there- 
fore thou didst not know thy need of a Saviour ; 
but now that thou knowest thy white garments 
are stained with sin thou wilt seek the only rem- 
edy, ‘ the blood of Jesus Christ, which cleanseth 
us from all sin.’ ” 

“ But, Imogene, thou dost forget I have only 
just committed this sin ; I have not done pen- 
ance for it yet, and so — ” 

“ The Lord Christ will forgive it at once,” 
said Imogene quickly ; “ if thou dost confess thy 
sin to him he will pardon before the penance is 
performed.” 

But Adeodatus still shivered with fear. “ If 
I were a holy monk and had only forgotten some 
rule, or eaten something I ought not, the Lord 
Christ might forgive me ; but this is a real sin.” 

“And the Lord Christ died for real sins, not 


228 


OUADRATUS. 


imaginary ones,” said Imogene, who had no 
great love for monks or nuns either. 

But Adeodatus still shrank from telling her 
what he had done, for he thought he should for- 
feit her good opinion, perhaps her very love, 
and the little neglected boy, who was rarely 
noticed by his mother, loved Imogene very 
much. At length he whispered, “ Tell me about 
the thief on the cross and the virgin-mother 
standing by.” 

Imogene ‘told him the story of the crucifixion, 
but she was careful to add that it was the 
Saviour himself, without any pleading look from 
his mother, who had compassion on the thief. 

“ I am a thief, too,” whispered Adeodatus. 
“ We took some apples off the tree. May we 
go to the Lord Jesus with such a sin as that } ” 

“To whom couldst thou go but to him ? He 
is the Saviour, and — ” 

“ Yes, but he is so great and high and holy, 
so — so far off from us,” whispered the boy 
through his tears. “ That is why my mother 
hath a statue of the virgin in her chamber, for 
being a woman she can feel for us, and it is 
easier to go to her.” 

Imogene looked troubled as she stroked the 
boy’s hair tenderly. “I learned to love the 
Lord Christ from the lips of one whose father 


Mojtica and her Son. 229 

had died for the faith in the great persecution, 
but she said naught concerning the Lord’s 
mother beyond this, that she was a good and 
holy woman. She did not pray to her, and was 
not afraid of taking her troubles and sorrows to 
the Lord, for she taught me that he could be 
touched with the feeling of our infirmities, that 
he had taken our whole nature upon him, and 
knew the love of a mother’s heart, and had 
promised to give us that love. I have heard 
this, too, from the Scriptures. ‘ As one whom his 
mother comforteth,’ are God’s words, and so 
there can be no need to ask the intercession of 
Mary when Christ can feel for us himself” 

Augustine sat and listened to every word. 
“ Thou dost talk like my mother,” he said as she 
concluded. “ She told me that it was a mistake 
to think the Lord was so holy that he could 
not feel for sinners even in their sin, and it is 
thinking of this that makes me so miserable 
sometimes. I seem to see the Lord Christ 
looking as pitiful and sorrowful as my mother 
does when I have been doing wrong. He is 
like my mother, I think,” added the boy. 

“ Monica is like Christ in her gentleness and 
love for thee, my son, only, if it be possible, he 
is more pitiful, more tender than even thy moth- 
er, and deeply as she may grieve over thy sins 


230 Quadratus, 

his grief is greater, because he is holier and he 
loves thee so much more.” 

The conversation was interrupted here by 
Alypus calling the boys from the covered ter- 
race which united the garden to the house, and 
so, hastily removing all traces of their sorrow, 
they ran toward him, leaving Imogene in the 
arbor to ponder over what had happened. 


The Letter. 


231 


CHAPTER XVIL 

THE LETTER. 

M onica sat with her friends in the tri- 
cliniimi talking over the news of the 
Church in Tagaste, and how great cause for 
thankfulness they had in their freedom from 
persecution, since the news had come of the 
cruel edicts issued by Julian against the Chris- 
tians of Antioch, when Alypus entered leading 
the two boys, whom he placed beside Monica, 
at the same time ordering a slave to bring a 
fresh basket of fruit for them. But Adeodatus 
shook his head when the grapes and apples 
were handed to him, and instead of eating them 
burst into tears. Augustine likewise looked 
confused and uncomfortable, but helped himself 
to a bountiful supply, which he ate while his 
mother tried to comfort his companion. 

When he had finished and Adeodatus had 
left off crying, Monica whispered a command to 
her son which evidently did not please him, for 
he pouted and shook his shoulders. I do not 
like Homer,” he muttered ; “ I hate the Greek 
tongue. Let me recite one of the plays of our 
15 


232 Quadratus. 

own Egyptian Terence, or some of the poetry 
of Virgil.” 

“ Let it be something from our comic Ter- 
ence,” said Alypus, who had overheard these 
words ; and Augustine, looking well pleased 
at this opportunity of exhibiting his youthful 
powers, stood up between the three tables that 
formed the dining-room siiite^ and, facing Par- 
thenia, commenced his dramatic recital. 

Monica looked as pleased as Augustine him- 
self when she saw that by his impassioned tone, 
flashing eyes, and the quick nervous movement 
of his hands the whole attention of her friends 
was riveted upon him, and her heart glowed 
proudly as she thought of his probable future, 
when he became — as she hoped he would — 
the most learned and eloquent rhetorician of 
Carthage. 

It would not do, however, to let Augustine 
see she was so pleased, for he was already too 
fond of this light poetry, but very idle over 
the more solid part of his education. So 
when Alypus had applauded him on the con- 
clusion of the piece and had handed him anoth- 
er bunch of grapes as a reward, she said quietly. 
It costs but little labor to learn Terence. I 
wish our Euclid had as great charm for my 
Augustine.” 


The Letter, 


233 


Nay, not like our great mathematician, Eu- 
clid ! ” exclaimed Alypus in well-feigned sur- 
prise. “ Nay, nay, it cannot be but that Au- 
gustine is fond and proud of his fellow-country- 
man. He is a true Egyptian, I am sure.” 

“Yes, I am glad Euclid was an Egyptian as 
well as Terence — that the Romans are not 
masters every-where — but I do not like learning 
his elements of geometry.” 

Alypus shook his head and laughed. “ Adeo- 
datus will pass thee in that study if‘ thou art 
not careful and industrious. He cares little for 
Terence or Virgil, but will sit patiently over a 
proposition of Euclid until it is mastered.” 

“ I wish he would master mine for me, then,” 
said Augustine impatiently. “I like playing 
at ball better than learning about circles and 
angles.” 

Monica and Alypus both laughed, but quick- 
ly forgot the speech, for they recommenced the 
conversation about Melissa, and the disastrous 
news that had just arrived concerning the per- 
secution at Antioch, so that the boys were quite 
forgotten for some time. 

The sun had set, and little colored lamps had 
been hung between the white marble pillars, 
which shed a soft radiance through the room, 
before any one thought of either Augustine or 


234 


Quadratus. 


his companion, and then a slave was sent in 
search of them, for Monica was anxious to re- 
turn home. 

After looking in vain through the house they 
were found at last in the garden, both shivering 
from the dew that had fallen as they sat upon 
the grass, but still talking earnestly, for Augus- 
tine had persuaded Adeodatus to help him solve 
several problems from the detested Euclid, that 
he might have more time to play at ball or 
checkers the next day. 

Adeodatus was sent to Imogene in disgrace, 
and Monica scolded Augustine for staying out 
in the heavy night dew so late ; but she was too 
anxious to reach home now to bestow much 
thought upon the danger he had thus incurred, 
and the circumstance was almost forgotten be- 
fore he went to bed. 

The next day, however, he was very unwell. 
Then Monica remembered the exposure to the 
heavy night dew, and treated him as for a cold 
or chill ; but the sickness would not yield to 
her remedies, and at last he grew so much 
worse that she determined to have him baptized 
without delay. Augustine himself, however, 
was very unwilling for the rite to be performed. 
His mind dwelt upon Adeodatus, and his sor- 
row about the theft of the apple, which was 


The Letter. 


235 


not so much for the actual sin as that it had 
been committed after he was baptized, and, 
therefore, he had soiled his baptismal robes and 
incurred the greater guilt, and Augustine loved 
sin too well to be willing to give it up yet if he 
should be spared to get well again. He con- 
fessed his theft of the apple now to his mother, 
and begged her to pray that he might be 
forgiven by God ; but at the same time he 
asked her not to send for the bishop to baptize 
him. 

“If I get well again I— shall sin again, 
perhaps ; and then how dreadtul ’t will be. 
Why was Adeodatus baptized so early, my 
mother ? ” 

“ His father wished it — wished him to be a 
child of God from his youth,” said Monica, and 
she sighed as she thought how earnestly she 
had prayed that her son might give his life to 
God’s service, and yet how unwilling he was to 
be baptized because it would be a check upon 
him in his sin. “ I wish thou hadst been bap- 
tized as Adeodatus hath ; his father told me how 
watchful and prayerful he is lest he should de- 
file his baptismal robes, and that he himself 
was saved from many evil ways when a young 
man by remembering the gentle, loving teach- 
ing of his grandmotheV, and the words she 


236 


Quadratus. 


spoke to him when he was baptized — never to 
forget that his grandfather was a martyr.” 

“ I wish my grandmother was gentle and kind 
instead of being cross and finding fault with thee, 
my mother,” said Augustine, cleverly evading 
the main point of which she had been speaking. 

Unfortunately, the old lady had just entered 
the chamber in time to hear these words, and 
she turned toward Monica directly. “Thou 
dost teach the boy to hate me,” she said, “ that 
thou mayest make him a Christian the more 
easily.” 

“ Nay, nay,” said Monica, feeling confused 
and vexed. “ I have not said a word — ” 

“ My mother would fain make me believe 
thou art gentle and kind, but I know thou art 
not,” interrupted Augustine hotly. 

“ Hush, hush, my son,” said Monica, laying 
her hand on his throbbing temples and com- 
pelling him to be still ; “ thou wilt be worse if 
thou dost grow angry. Do not speak to him, 
my mother,” she said imploringly as she turned 
toward the old lady. 

With a muttered exclamation she left the 
room, resolving to tell Patricius of this fresh 
insult as soon as he should return home, for she 
chose to believe still that Monica had tried to 
set the boy against her. 


The Letter. 


237 


Fearing lest his mother in her anxiety for 
his conversion should even now send for the 
bishop to baptize him, Augustine begged his 
father’s intervention in this matter, and Patri- 
cius, who cared for nothing but his son’s advance- 
ment, readily promised that he should not be 
baptized until he wished it ; for if Julian, their 
present emperor, still continued to hate Chris- 
tianity, it was not likely to benefit his own son 
much. This was how he argued the matter 
to himself ; but he persuaded Monica that it 
would be dangerous to excite the boy by the 
performance of this rite just at present, and his 
illness taking a favorable turn soon afterward, 
Monica gave up the hope once more, but con- 
tinued to pray more earnestly than ever, not 
onl)^ for the conversion of her son, but for her 
husband and his mother likewise. 

Unconsciously to herself, perhaps, her hopes 
for her boy were much more sanguine than for 
Patricius, and she began to look for some fruit of 
her labor — some answer to her prayers for him ; 
and yet it was to Patricius and his mother that 
the desired blessing came first, for it was about 
this time that her husband first began to leave 
off attending the feasts and drunken revels held 
in honor of the old gods, and even showed some 
little kindness and consideration for Monica, 


238 Quadratus. 

which he had never done before since their 
marriage. 

The first instance of this change — this lately 
awakened interest in her and her Christian 
friends — greatly surprised Monica, for Patricius 
brought home the news that he had just heard 
from a party of Jews, who had come from Jeru- 
salem, that one of their number had been in- 
trusted with a letter by a Christian lady to her 
son Alypus, a merchant of Tagaste. 

“They came to me to inquire where they 
might find Alypus,” explained Patricius; “for 
they had searched through the town in vain, 
until one suggested the asking one of the town 
officers, who would be sure to know.” 

“ It was well they came to thee. Is the letter 
delivered to Alypus yet, thinkest thou ? ” asked 
Monica. 

“ Thou shouldst go and ask if these Jews 
have been to him.” 

His mother looked up, and would have raised 
some objection, but for once her son would not 
hear a word against his wife. “ Monica hath 
been in close attendance upon Augustine dur- 
ing his illness, and her own health will suffer if 
she keep so closely within the house,” he said. 

So Monica set off once more to inquire about 
the truth of this strange rumor of a letter com- 


The Lei ter. 


239 


ing from Melissa — whether it was true, or only 
a Jewish trick to obtain a liberal reward by pro- 
ducing a fictitious letter written by some one 
else. 

She found Alypus in a state of great excite- 
ment and uncertainty as to what he should 
believe and what he should do, for the letter 
brought by these Jews was not written by his 
mother — it was not in her hand-writing — but 
purported to come from his Aunt Placidia, whom 
he scarcely remembered to have heard of be- 
yond this, that she had mysteriously disappeared 
from Alexandria. He knew it was owing to 
this that his father had entertained a dislike 
and suspicion of the Jews as being the cause 
of his aunt’s disappearance, and which made 
him the more suspicious of them now as he 
read the strange epistle. 

“ It is only a trick of these crafty peddlers,” 
he said at last, rolling up the strip of papyrus 
and throwing it aside ; “ they have gained what 
they wanted — the paltry reward for bringing 
this to me — and that is all they cared for ; ” and 
he was turning away to walk off his vexation 
in the garden, when Monica said gently, 

“ May I see this letter, my Alypus 1 ” 

“Yes, indeed; but I fear thou wilt not be 
able to read it, for the writer seems to have used 


240 Quadratus. 

the stylus but little of late,” and Alypus handed 
her the roll as he spoke. 

But at the first glance Monica shook her 
head. “This is in Greek,” she said, “and I 
know but little of that tongue — Latin being 
the language of Tagaste. Is Greek the lan- 
guage of Alexandria ? ” she asked. 

“Yes, Alexandria was a colony of Greece 
once,” said Alypus carelessly, and he was again 
turning toward the garden when Monica’s voice 
arrested him. 

“Would these Jews address a letter in Greek 
to Alypus of Tagaste, where the Latin tongue 
is spoken, thinkest thou } ” she asked. 

Alypus took up the roll again and looked at 
it more carefully. “These Jews know so much, 
and are banded together so closely and so se- 
cretly, that it is hard to judge what they do not 
know. But I will read the letter to thee ;” and 
he sat down and read aloud. 

“Placidia, the servant of Jesus Christ, to 
Alypus, greeting : Melissa, my beloved sister 
and thy mother, whose absence thou hast doubt- 
less mourned, hath tarried with me at Antioch, 
hoping there to meet Quadratus, my brother, 
who is a guard in the service of the emperor. 
But he came not with Julian, as we hoped, and. 


The Letter. 


241 


being driven by the persecution to seek refuge 
in Judea, we came hither under the protection 
of some Jews, proposing to travel into Egypt 
with them. But while tarrying at Jerusalem 
thy mother, Melissa, was taken with a grievous 
sickness, and now lies weak and helpless, strong 
only in her love to thee and her desire to see 
thee before the Lord removes her hence. If, 
therefore, this epistle be borne to thee faithfully 
by the Jews who have promised to take it, jour- 
ney hither without delay, and I will tarry here 
until the calends of January. Delay not, there- 
fore, thy coming, or send by a true messenger 
some word to thy mother and thy aunt, 

“ Placidia.” 

“What thinkest thou, Monica.^” he asked as 
he concluded his reading. 

“ That thy aunt hath truly sent it,” said the 
lady decisively. 

“ But the latter part is what I do not like — 
this urging me to journey to Jerusalem. Thou 
dost not know these Jews ; they have perhaps 
brought this from a band of robbers, who will 
lay wait for me in some of the valleys of Judea, 
and after robbing me demand a heavy ransom 
as the price of my liberty.” 

But Monica shook her head. “ The Jews are 


242 Quadratus. 

bad enough, doubtless, but I do not think they 
are deceiving thee in this letter — it is a true 
letter.” 

“Then thou wouldst urge me to take this 
journey,” said Alypus, glancing at his wife as 
he spoke. 

Parthenia was lying on a couch indolently 
toying with her fan, but she started at the word 
“journey.” “I cannot spare thee from home 
long, Alypus,” she said. “ Where dost thou 
purpose to go } ” 

“ My mother is at Jerusalem, and desires to 
see me,” said her husband, trying to appear in- 
different, although it was evident he was anx- 
ious to start on this journey since Monica ad- 
vised it. 

But at the mention of going to his mother 
Parthenia looked angry and hurt, and she said 
in a petulant tone, “ She can come to us, Alypus, 
of course, hut I cannot spare thee to go to her.” 

“Nay, nay; but, my Parthenia, think of the 
sorrow thou didst endure when thou wast in 
fear that Melissa might have died on this jour- 
ney,” interrupted Monica. 

“ But she is not dead,” said Parthenia in the 
same petulant tone. 

“But she is ill — very ill. Think, if it were 
thy Adeodatus, wouldst thou not be anxious to 


The Letter. 


243 

have him come to thee if thou wert sick and 
suffering ?” 

For answer Parthenia burst into tears, and 
Monica was left to comfort her alone, for Alypus 
was so vexed at his wife’s unreasonable opposi- 
tion to his taking this journey, that he went to 
walk in the garden and think over the matter 
more calmly, before finally deciding whether he 
would go himself or send a messenger instead. 

While thinking over the strange circumstance 
of his aunt, whom he supposed to be dead, writ- 
ing this letter to him, he suddenly remembered 
that Adeodatus had told him some story of 
Imogene meeting with a slave, who had said 
she was a lady of Alexandria. He had not 
paid much attention to it at the time, but it re- 
curred to his memory now, and he sent for 
Imogene to question her about it. 

Having heard her account of her meeting 
with Placidia in the possession of some Jews, 
and parting with her afterward at Jerusalem, he 
asked if she thought she would recognize this 
lady-slave if she saw her. 

“ I am sure I should,” answered Imogene 
confidently. “ She hath grown old as well as 
the poor British captive, but I should know her 
an)^where.” 

“Then thou shalt go to Jerusalem, Imogene, 


244 Quadratus. 

and see the writer of this letter I have received. 
Thou art a discreet woman, and wilt obey my 
command in all things, I know ; and as my 
business in Tagaste will be sorely hindered if I 
go myself, I will intrust the mission to thee.” 

The resolution had been so suddenly formed 
that Alypus forgot all the difficulties of a woman 
undertaking such a mission alone ; but Imogene 
was not one to flinch from a duty because it 
was difficult, and the remotest hope of seeing 
Placidia once more was sufficient to lighten any 
toil, or strengthen her to brave any danger, so, 
with a smile of acquiescence, she said, “ I will 
prepare with all speed, most noble Alypus, and 
thou wilt make all the arrangements needful,” 
and she went back to her usual occupation, 
leaving the merchant with a heart greatly light- 
ened by her willingness to go. 


Suspense. 


245 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

SUSPENSE. 

S PRING flowers were blossoming in the 
gardens of Tagaste, and epiphany hymns 
were being sung in the churches, telling of the 
manifestation of the Son of God to the sons of 
men, for the saturnalia had not yet been changed 
into Christmas, and so the glad songs with 
which we in these later ages hail this festive 
season were the epiphany hymns of the early 
Church. 

Alypus was expecting Imogene to return al- 
most daily now, bringing with her his mother 
and his aunt, but as yet no tidings had come 
from the travelers, and he was growing anxious 
at the delay. Monica was their frequent guest, 
and Alypus trusted that through her example 
an.d persuasion Parthenia might accommodate 
herself to his mother more than she had done 
in Alexandria, for, of course, she would come 
to live with them again, and he hoped the house- 
hold might go on more happily than before. 

He was thinking of this matter one day while 
on his way to the market-place to meet with 


246 


Quadratus. 


some other merchants, when, to his surprise, as 
he was passing the baths in the principal street 
he heard some one say, “There is Alypus, of 
Alexandria, my friend, so thou wilt not have to 
search for him far.” 

Pausing and looking round as he heard these 
words, Alypus saw an elderly, careworn, weath- 
er-beaten man, evidently a stranger in the town, 
who descended the marble steps of the building 
and hastened toward him at once. 

After the usual salutation the stranger said, 
“I recognize thee now, Alypus, from thy like- 
ness to thy mother.” 

“ My mother!” repeated the merchant quickly. 
“ Dost thou bring me tidings of my mother ? ” 

“ Nay, but I have come from Constantinople 
to see her. Is she not here in Tagaste 

Alypus shook his head in bewilderment. “ My 
mother came not hither with me when I left 
Alexandria,” he said. 

“ But thou hast dwelt here some years — since 
Athanasius was expelled for George, of Cappa- 
docia, to become patriarch, at the order of our 
late emperor, Constantins.” 

The merchant looked astonished. “ Thou at 
least art acquainted with all my movements,” 
he said. “ Dost thou know Athanasius .? ” 

“ I was brought up with him in my youth,” 


Suspense. 247 

replied the stranger smiling, ‘‘and led thee to 
thy baptism.” 

“ Then thou didst know my grandmother,” 
said Alypiis quickly. 

“Yes, she was my mother. Didst thou never 
hear of Quadratus, the guard of the labarum.?” 
asked the stranger 

For answer the merchant threw himself into 
his arms with an exclamation of joyful surprise. 
“ Quadratus,” he repeated, “ I have heard my 
mother talk of thee many times, but we feared 
thou must have died, since we heard naught 
concerning thee for so many years.” 

The soldier shook his head with a grave, sad 
smile. “ The life of our noble patriarch, Atha- 
nasius, hath scarcely been of greater vicissitude 
than mine. I have been degraded, banished, 
recalled and honored, imprisoned and liberated, 
then honored again with the charge of the sa- 
cred standard of the cross, until Julian assumed 
the purple, and removed the name of Christ, as 
well as the cross, from its rightful place, and 
then I retired from the service of arms, and as 
soon as my affairs in Constantinople could be 
arranged I set off to Alexandria.” 

“ And thou didst find it a pandemonium un- 
der this patriarch, George,” interrupted Alypus. 

“ Nay, the city was quiet and orderly, for it 
la 


248 Quadratus. 

had wreaked a terrible vengeance on this cruel 
oppressor, who had usurped the seat of God’s 
servant. Hast thou not heard that this George 
was dragged through the streets like a malefac- 
tor and drowned 

“Then thou didst not see the city under its 
Arian tyrant,” said Alypus ; “ and thou, too, 
wilt call him a saint, as many are now doing, 
because he received a just reward for his evil 
deeds at the hands of those whom he cruelly 
oppressed.” Alypus was angry. 

“ Nay, nay, be not so hasty in thy conclu- 
sions ; doubtless, this murder of the patriarch 
was not an unprovoked deed, and I am not one 
to call him a saint on account of it, but many 
in Alexandria do, and, doubtless, he will be 
remembered as such, because of his violent 
and untimely end, when many a better man is 
forgotten.” 

Quadratus said this with a quiet smile, and 
in a calm, unimpassioned voice, as though he 
had thought over the matter more deeply than 
even Alypus himself ; but his anticipations in 
this direction must have fallen far short of the 
actual reality, for had he been told that this in- 
famous patriarch of Alexandria would have 
been venerated and worshiped as the patron of 
chivalry, had his name handed down to pos- 


Suspense. 249 

terity as “ St. George of Merrie England,” he 
would have smiled at the absurdity of such a 
prophecy, and declared it was impossible. But, 
as we all know, truth is stranger than fiction, 
and so it is that good men and true have periled 
life and limb for the honor of this dead “saint” 
who would have scorned to call him friend and 
companion while living. 

Quadratus saw that his nephew could not 
speak with patience of the man who had driven 
him to seek an asylum in this provincial town 
to save himself from ruin, and so he told him 
of the joy of the citizens at the installation of 
Athanasius again, and their sorrow and threat- 
ened rebellion when banished once more by the 
order of Julian. 

“ But he hath not left his flock entirely this 
time,” said Quadratus as he concluded his re- 
cital ; “ he hath retired to his father’s tomb, be- 
yond the city gates, where friends can visit him 
in secret, and he can still order the affairs of 
the Church.” 

Alypus sighed. “ These are evil times,” he 
said, “ and the enemies of God’s Church are 
victorious on all sides. Hast thou heard of the 
persecution in Antioch ? ” 

“Yes, the tidings of this reached Alexandria 
while I was there,” answered Quadratus. 


250 Quadratus. 

“ My mother was in Antioch, and fled from 
thence to Jerusalem.” 

“ Thy mother alone in Antioch ? ” repeated 
Quadratus in a tone of surprise. 

■“ Nay, nay, not alone ; I had a letter brought 
to me by some Jews, written by one calling her- 
self my Aunt Placidia.” 

Quadratus started. “Placidia !” he repeated. 
“ Nay, nay, it cannot be true. My sister, Pla- 
cidia, still living } where is she now ? where has 
she been all these long years ? ” 

But Alypus could only shake his head. “ I 
am even now expecting the messenger I sent 
to Jerusalem in answer to this letter; “tarry 
with me until she returns, and it may be thou 
wilt see both thy sisters together.” 

Quadratus agreed to this, because if he were 
to leave Tagaste in search of them now he 
might miss them ; but the time passed more 
slowly to him than to his nephew, for he had 
little to engage his attention beyond walking 
out along the road the travelers were expected to 
pass, or talking to Adeodatus and hearing his 
account of his young friend, Augustine. He 
saw the boy himself sometimes, and Monica, his 
mother ; he likewise heard from Alypus that, 
but for this lady, no notice would have been tak- 
en of the letter brought by the Jews, which made 


Suspense. 251 

him take more notice of both than he other- 
wise might have done. What he saw of young 
Augustine did not please him, and he shook his 
head gravely as he saw how often he cheated 
while playing some game with Adeodatus, and 
how idle he was while at his lessons. Talking 
with Monica one day he said, “ Thy son is high- 
spirited and clever, but — ” 

“ I know what thou wouldst say,” interrupted 
Monica ; “ he is not a good boy — he is not a 
Christian. I know it, but I know that the grace 
of God can change the hardest heart, and this 
grace is given in answer to prayer, and will be 
given to my son even yet.” 

Quadratus looked at the earnest, loving face 
before him. “ The kingdom of heaven suffereth 
violence, and the violent take it by force,” he 
said thoughtfully. 

She bowed her head. “ I may well be vio- 
lent in prayer for such a son, for he will be a 
great blessing or a great curse to the Church 
and to the world.” 

Quadratus turned his eyes upon the bright, 
eager-looking boy, now so ardently pursuing his 
play, and thought over Monica’s words. As 
yet the appearances were all on the side of the 
curse coming upon many, but this might yet be 
averted through the simple prayer of faith, and 


252 


Quadratus. 


the teaching from such a life as Monica’s, who 
reminded him more of his own mother than 
any one he had met before. 

But with all the interchange of genial Chris- 
tian converse with friends and the pleasant 
gossip of the baths, the days dragged on very 
slowly, waiting and watching for the messen- 
ger who did not come. They had heard about 
the attempt to rebuild the Temple, and of its 
utter failure, but this was all the news that 
came from Jerusalem, until at length Quadratus 
grew tired of waiting at Tagaste, and resolved 
to go to Alexandria again in search of his sis- 
ters, feeling sure that Melissa would decide to 
go there now that Athanasius had returned to 
the city. 

This resolution of his uncle’s decided Alypus 
to break off his connection with Tagaste and 
return to his native city, hoping that the change 
would restore his wife’s health and spirits, for 
Parthenia had not been well for some time, 
which had been an additional reason against his 
taking the journey to Jerusalem, but which he 
half regretted he had not done. Thus far no 
tidings had reached them of Imogene, and he 
feared now that, being a British woman, she had 
been seized by some Jewish slave-dealers and 
appropriated, for the Britons were lawful spoil 


Suspense. 


253 


as slaves in those times, whenever they could 
be taken and tamed. So he began to prepare 
for his removal to Alexandria, hoping to be able 
to effect this shortly after Easter, for the encyc- 
lical letter of Athanasius, issued at Epiphany, 
had fixed this later than usual this year. This 
duty devolved upon the pope or patriarch of 
Alexandria, because this city was the seat of 
all the scientists, and possessed greater facili- 
ties for accuracy in studying the changes of the 
moon, which always determined the time for 
the observance of Easter. It was not known, 
therefore, with any certainty, until Epiphany, 
when Easter would be observed ; but at that 
time notice was given, in all the churches of 
the world, of the date fixed by the patriarch of 
the great African Church, and no one thought 
of disputing it. 

There would be little difficulty in removing 
from Tagaste so far as Imogene was concerned, 
for should her return be delayed beyond this 
time Monica and her husband would take charge 
of the travelers, and had promised to jour- 
ney with them to Alexandria, for they were 
both anxious to visit the city that rivaled Car- 
thage in its splendor and learning, as well to 
see the great Athanasius, who had so boldly 
stood forth as the champion of the Church 


254 Quadratus. 

against the oppression of its patron-masters — 
the successive emperors. 

So the business concerns and household ar- 
rangements of Alypus were soon arranged for 
his departure from Tagaste, and preparations 
were commenced at once for the voyage to 
Alexandria, for they would travel by sea, and 
slaves were sent forward to engage a galley. 

There was little danger in returning to Alex- 
andria, for although Athanasius had again been 
banished, and was obliged to conceal himself in 
his fathers tomb outside the city gates, the 
people were so attached to him that Julian had 
not ventured to appoint a successor to his chair ; 
and though the prefect was a devoted follower 
of Serapis, and had restored the ancient service 
in the Serapeum, he was too wise and politic a 
ruler to attempt laying very heavy taxes upon 
the citizens, for they were already restless 
enough, and riots had been all too frequent of 
late for him to risk his power by provoking 
another. 

There was little fear either that Julian would 
visit Alexandria to stir up a persecution, for his 
visit to Antioch had been any thing but pleas- 
ant to him, and he had left in disgust and re- 
tired to Tarsus before the winter was over. He 
had started for Persia now at the head of his 


Suspense. 


255 


army, determined to subdue that ancient king- 
dom. Augurs and oracles had prophesied per- 
fect success to this expedition, and remembering 
the splendid victories their emperor had gained 
in Gaul and Germany, the soldiers forgot the 
previous reverses they had suffered in Persia 
under Constantins, and departed from Tarsus 
full of joyful anticipations. 

This was the latest news from the East that 
had reached Alexandria, and the messenger 
bringing these tidings reached the city just 
after Quadratus’ return from Tagaste. He 
contrived to see the courier, and question him 
about the state of affairs at Antioch, for he 
had sailed direct from the mouth of the Orontes 
to the Egyptian metropolis, and would, there- 
fore, bring the news in a shorter time than by 
a land journey through Syria. But although 
the news thus gained was recent and reliable, 
it was not very cheering. 

Two hundred senators had been sent to pris- 
on in one day for daring to oppose some of 
Julian’s plans; and, although they had been re- 
leased soon afterward, the city was still smarting 
under the indignity thus offered to its noblest 
citizens, and the Christian Church was still 
suffering from his oppressive edicts, although 
the persecution had greatly abated in its fury 


256 


Quadratus. 

since his departure, and some of those thrown 
into prison by his orders had since been released. 

Quadratus questioned and cross-questioned 
the messenger, hoping to gain some tidings of 
his sisters ; but the man had not heard any 
thing of travelers returning from Jerusalem, ex- 
cepting a few Jews, and so Quadratus resolved 
to await the coming of Alypus from Tagaste, 
and then set out himself in search of Placid ia 


once more. 


The yourney. 


257 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE JOURNEY. 

M eanwhile Imogene had reached Jeru- 
Salem after a toilsome, dangerous journey, 
for traveling in those days was not as easy as it 
is now, and was always attended with some peril 
from robbers infesting every mountain pass or 
lonely road, even if storms or contrary winds 
did not cause them great discomfort at sea. 

Winds and robbers had both hindered Imo- 
gene, for the little galley in which she sailed 
had been driven about in the Mediterranean 
until her passengers and crew despaired of see- 
ing land again, and only reached Cesarea a mere 
wreck. 

Imogene recognized the sailors’ land-mark — 
the temple of Sebasteum, perched on a rock in 
front of the town — long before they were able 
to enter the spacious harbor, for to the south 
and south-west immense blocks of stone, fifty 
feet long, had been sunk twenty fathoms, so 
that the only entrance was to the north ; but 
once within the breakwater no storm could 
toss their little vessel, and so it was with thank- 


258 Quadratus. 

fill hearts and shouts of rejoicing from the sail- 
ors that the port was at last gained, and the 
marble palaces of the town came fully into 
view. 

As soon as they had landed, however, Imo- 
gene started for Jerusalem, carefully concealing 
the money Alypus had given her to defray the 
expenses of her journey, and trusting that her 
appearance as an elderly slave would save her 
from any interruption from lurking robbers. 

In this, however, she was disappointed, for 
soon after she had left Cesarea a band of armed 
men came rushing out of one of the wild rocky 
ravines, and before Imogene could turn, or cry 
out for help, she was lifted by one of the men 
and carried off in his arms up the slope of the 
rocky defile as though she had been an infant 
instead of an old woman. 

They seated her on a bowlder of rock inside 
a cave, and then burst into a loud roar of laugh- 
ter at her look of perplexity and distress as she 
began to implore them to release her. Her 
words would have had little effect even if they 
could have understood what she said ; but they 
could not, neither could she comprehend a word 
spoken by them. Their actions, however, were 
all too easy of comprehension, for rough, rude 
hands were soon shaking her dress and search- 


The Jmcrney. 259 

ing every fold for concealed treasures, and it 
was not long before their accustomed fingers had 
found Imogene’s hiding-place for her master s 
gold pieces, cunningly as it had been devised. 

With a chuckling laugh the finder handed the 
little bag to his companions, and then went on 
to search for more. In vain Imogene begged, 
protested, and prayed them to return her money ; 
the robbers only laughed at her tears and her 
strange language, and after satisfying them- 
selves that they had taken all she possessed, 
they fastened her securely to the wall of the 
cave and then left her. 

At first the poor woman was so overcome 
with grief and perplexity that she could think 
of nothing but her loss. As the hours stole on, 
however, and the shadows of evening darkened 
the cave, another fear succeeded this. Was she 
left here to die } Her answer to this came a 
few hours later, when one of the robbers re- 
turned, bringing some bread and a little sour 
wine. 

Imogene had not seen this man before, but 
he seemed to be the interpreter of the band, for 
he spoke sufficient Greek to make her under- 
stand what he said, and asked several questions 
about the family she served, where they lived, 
whether they would be passing that road, and 


26o Quadkatus. 

whether any one at Cesarea would ransom 
her. 

All these questions Imogene answered truly ; 
and, judging from her answers that little would 
be gained by detaining her any longer, the rob- 
bers set her at liberty the next morning. 

Once more on her road to Jerusalem, Imogene 
traveled with all the speed she possibly could, 
for the calends of January had passed, and she 
feared Placidia might leave the city before she 
could reach it. Having been robbed of all her 
money, she had to depend for subsistence upon 
the charity of those she met on the road, to 
whom she repeated her tale of the robbery, 
which was, of course, an additional hinderance, 
and often delayed her some time. 

Through all these adverse circumstances, 
January was almost at an end before the little 
colony that had gathered round the sacred 
Mount of Calvary was reached; and Imogene 
was travel-strained, weary, and footsore, as she 
walked down the street of Roman villas, to 
which she had been directed by Alypus. 

To all her inquiries for Placidia, however, 
she received but one answer, a grave shake of 
the head, as a signal that she was not under- 
stood, and a finger pointed toward a large build- 
ing at the further end of the town. 


The Journey. 


261 

On drawing nearer to this she saw that it 
was a hospital, but she had a dim recollection of 
this having been the palace of the Empress 
Helena while she was living here. There 
were several monks and deacons on the steps 
as she drew near, and she ventured to ask one 
of these the question she had put to so many 
others in vain. 

“ Placidia } ” repeated the deacon ; “ was 
she a visitor belonging to the Church of the 
Resurrection } ” 

“ Nay, I know not ; but that she came from 
Antioch during the late persecution,” said Imo- 
gene anxiously. 

“ And thou hast come from Antioch in search 
of her } ” asked another of the deacons. 

“ Nay, I came from Tagaste, in Egypt. Canst 
thou tell me aught concerning her or her sister, 
Melissa, who was sick almost unto death here in 
Jerusalem } ” said Imogene, in a voice of implor- 
ing earnestness. 

“ Thou sayest one was sick ; was she an aged 
woman of Alexandria ? ” asked one. 

“ Yes ; O, tell me, is she well ? can I see her 
and Placidia.?” and Imogene was so overcome 
that she burst into tears. 

“ Hush, hush, thou art weak and weary ; en- 
ter and rest thyself, and one of the sisters will 


262 


Quadratus. 


tell thee all concerning thy friends,” and saying 
this the deacon led her into the hospital, and 
sent for one of the nurses. 

“ Bring a little wine and some bread to re- 
fresh this poor woman,” said the deacon, “ and 
then thou mayest tell her all thou knowest con- 
cerning Placidia and Arethusa of Antioch. 

But Imogene shook her head when the wine 
was set before her. “ Lead me to Placidia,” she 
whispered. “ I have hungered for her many 
weary years.” 

“ Nay, but thou must eat and drink to gain 
strength, or else thou wilt never be fit to jour- 
ney to Antioch,” said the woman. 

“To Antioch!” repeated Imogene; “hath 
my Placidia returned thither } ” 

“Yes, she tarried long in Jerusalem, waiting 
for a messenger to arrive from her sister’s son ; 
but no one came, and so when the calends of 
January were past she returned with Arethusa 
and John Chrysostom.” 

“And Melissa, her sister, is she — asked 
Imogene. 

“ She is better. I helped them to nurse her 
through her long and weary sickness, and trav- 
eled with her a short distance on her journey 
to Antioch.” 

“Then I, too, must go to Antioch,” said 


The yoiirney. 263 

Imogene with aweary sigh, and she would have 
risen at once to recommence her journey. 

But the nurse gently laid her hand upon her 
shoulder, and compelled her to sit down again. 
“ Thou must rest awhile and refresh thyself, for 
Antioch is many miles from here, and thou art 
worn and weary now and to take her atten- 
tion from the present anxiety she began to tell 
Imogene of the recent attempt to rebuild the 
Jewish temple. 

“ The Jews were almost crazy with joy at the 
thought of this,” she said; “and even delicate 
ladies came hither with silver spades to assist 
in removing the earth and rubbish from the 
sacred spot, while others carried it away in their 
mantels of embroidered silk.” 

“ They must have been bitterly disappointed 
when the fire came,” said Imogene as she 
thought of her long journey to Antioch, for she 
had no intention of returning to Tagaste until 
she had found Placidia. 

“ Yes, they were greatly disappointed — more 
even than thou art now,” said the nurse, who 
saw the direction of Imogene’s thoughts ; “but 
these things must be borne with patience, al- 
though they are often more trying than greater 
afflictions.” 

“Yes, I confess myself greatly disappointed 
17 


264 Quadratus. 

that I cannot see Placidia,” said Imogene with 
a sigh. 

“ Thou wilt see her soon ; thou must stay 
here a few days for needful rest, and it may be 
some will come hither who are journeying to 
the great northern city, with whom thou mayest 
travel in safety.” 

This hope reconciled Imogene to the neces- 
sary delay, more than any thing else, although 
her kind friend at the hospital took her to the 
Church of the Resurrection, on the top of 
Mount Calvary, where she was allowed to see a 
piece of wood said to be part of the true cross. 
There were a great number of pilgrims in the 
little town, and quite a crowd of these were 
kneeling round the sacred wood ; but Imogene, 
in her simplicity, lifted her heart and eyes from 
the cross to Him who had hung upon it, for the 
lessons of simple faith she had learned from 
the lips of Placidia had remained uncorrupted 
through all these years, and Imogene regarded 
the cross only as a sacred symbol, not an object 
to be worshiped, as so many seemed to consider 
it now. 

To be traveling once more along the great 
Roman road, that had been cut over hills and 
through intervening valleys straight on to the 
capital of Syria, Damascus, was her greatest 


The yoimtey. 


265 


anxiety, for here she might overtake Placidia 
and her friend, she had heard, as they intended 
to rest there before proceeding to Antioch. 

It was, therefore, with little regret that she 
bade her kind hosts farewell, and, taking the 
little wallet of food they had provided for her 
journey, started once more across the hills of 
Judea toward the level plain beyond. Imogene 
was again weary and footsore before the last 
hill was climbed, for the great highways never 
turned a hair-breadth to avoid an eminence, 
but went straight on, over and through every 
obstacle, nothing being allowed to turn them 
aside. 

When, at length, the last hill was gained, and 
Imogene saw a level plain stretching on for 
miles before her, she took heart again, for this 
would not be such weary walking, although she 
would lose the pleasant glimpses of budding 
trees in the orchards and the musical plash of 
little brooks as they came tumbling down the 
sides of the hills, for the plain was barren and 
sterile, and there were no wandering shepherds 
leading their flocks to pasture on the few blades 
of stunted gras§ that grew here. So, if her feet 
grew less weary, her eyes pined for the pleasant 
variety of hills and valleys, rocky ridges and 
green corn-fields. 


266 Quadratus. 

At length, after three days of weary tramp- 
ing, the white towers of the longed-for city rose 
gradually above the horizon ; but before the city 
gates were reached her weary eyes were re- 
freshed by the sight of rich gardens and forests 
of olive-trees, palms, and Damascus plum-trees, 
for here the plain was watered by the “ golden 
stream,” the Abana and Pharpar, fresh from 
their home amid the snows of Lebanon. Well 
might the Eastern writers call this Syrian capi- 
tal, “ a pearl surrounded by emeralds,” for with 
its forest fringe of walnut, fig, pomegranate, 
plum, apricot, citron, pear, and apple trees 
growing in richest luxuriance, and its never- 
failing streams of purest water, Damascus, 
though on the borders of a desert, is one of the 
loveliest spots on earth. 

Even Imogene forgot her weariness and dis- 
appointment for a time, lost in admiration at 
the scene, for the trees were now of the freshest 
green, many of them bursting into blossom, so 
that even the roadside hedges and forest looked 
like one vast garden, while in the midst rose 
the marble domes and towers of the ancient 
city. 

Imogene had little difficulty in passing the 
guard at the gates, for her kind and thoughtful 
friends at Jerusalem had given her a letter to 


26/ 


The yoimtey, 

be delivered to the Christian brethren at the 
hospital of Damascus, recommending her as a 
sister in need, who was traveling to Antioch 
without means, having been robbed on her jour- 
ney of all the money she possessed. 

This letter secured her entrance at the great 
eastern gate, and she was soon pushing her 
way through the long, straight, busy street, that 
traverses the whole length of the city. It was 
in this same street that Paul lodged when he 
came hither on his persecuting errand from the 
sanhedrin of Jerusalem, and it was within sound 
of a similar din from mule-drivers and camel- 
leaders, and all the jostling, bustling noise of a 
commercial city, that his first prayer arose to 
heaven. In this street the hospital for sick and 
destitute travelers had likewise been established, 
and Imogene hastened her steps toward it with 
all speed, for the sight of a fair-haired British 
slave was not so common here, and her appear- 
ance was arousing a degree of attention any 
thing but pleasant. So she presented her letter 
as soon as she could, and was at once admitted 
to the rest and refreshment of this home, which 
Christian benevolence had provided for the 
poor and destitute. 

The deacons of the Church here were at once 
informed of the object of Imogene’s journey, 


268 ‘ 


Quadratus. 


and while she was resting and recruiting her 
strength, they and their brethren, the pabolani, 
were making inquiries throughout the city for 
the travelers who had preceded her. 

After three days, during which Imogene had 
been carefully nursed and her clothes washed, 
so that she might recommence her journey 
thoroughly refreshed, the news was brought to 
her that the widow, Arethusa, with her friend, 
Placidia, had tarried a week at Damascus, but 
had gone on to Antioch, and must have reached 
that city long since. Imogene was told now of 
the regulation that had been adopted of not 
allowing any beggars or indigent strangers to 
pass the gates of Antioch, and for a moment 
her heart died within her, for she knew that by 
the time the rest of her journey was accom- 
plished she should be in the forlorn condition 
of a ragged, penniless beggar, although the 
trusted household slave of a wealthy merchant, 
who had provided her with an ample supply of 
money for all her needs. 

She could not wholly restrain her tears as 
she thought of the possibility of disappointment 
when her errand was so nearly accomplished, 
but her faith did not fail her entirely. “ I will 
press on to Antioch,” she said, speaking to the 
deacon who had told her of the cruel regulation, 



The Journey. 269 

“and if thou wilt give me a letter to Placidia, 
telling her the messenger from Alypus of Ta- 
gaste awaits her outside the city gates, I shall 
have little fear but the Lord will provide the 
rest.” 

“ Thou shalt have the letter, with a good sup- 
ply of dried dates and a bottle of wine, for thy 
journey,” said the deacon ; and giving her as 
his parting words the first verse of the Twenty- 
third Psalm, to ponder over by the way, he went 
to prepare the letter and order the provisions, 
while Imogene murmured the sacred words 
softly to herself lest she should forget them : 
“ The Lord is my shepherd ; I shall not want.” 

“No, I shall not want,” she repeated, “ even 
as a beggar outside the gates of Antioch ; He 
will provide for me.” 


270 


Quadratus. 


CHAPTER XX. 

« 

THE MEETING OF FRIENDS. 

J OHN CHRYSOSTOM, with another young 
reader of the Church of Antioch, was re- 
turning from a visit to the cemetery near the 
ruined shrineof Daphne, when near the city gates 
they were hindered by the gathering of a little 
crowd round a poor woman who seemed to be 
in great distress, and was crying bitterly. 

“ It is a cruel law,” exclaimed one of the by- 
standers just as the two boys stopped, “ but it 
is useless to appeal to the guard ; thou mightest 
as well plead with the head of Charon yonder, 
as think of touching a soldier’s heart.” 

“What is it.?” asked John of one of those 
standing near. 

“ Nothing new, as thou mayest see,” replied his 
companion, who had edged himself forward to 
get a nearer view. “ It is only a beggar woman 
trying to get into the city ; ” and he would have 
hurried forward at once, but John still lingered. 

“ Nay, nay ; the poor woman would be con- 
tent if her letter was taken within the city,” 
said the man to whom John had first spoken. 


The Meeting of Friends. 27 1 

but the guard refuses to take charge of 
it.” 

“ Will she intrust it to me, think you } I am 
going into the city, and will carry it to whomso- 
ever it concerneth,” said John. 

“ She will doubtless be glad to have it taken 
by any means. Move aside, good friends, and let 
this young citizen speak to the woman,” and as he 
spoke the man pushed the lad forward through 
the little crowd of idle, curious gazers. 

John understood the reason of their curiosity 
when he stood face to face with the stranger, 
for her blue eyes and fair hair were an un- 
wonted sight in the neighborhood of Anti- 
och ; and for a moment he, like the rest, could 
only stand and gaze at her in speechless^ 
surprise. 

She did not seem to notice the curiosity her 
appearance had excited ; but when John drew 
near, she said anxiously, 

“ Art thou a citizen of Antioch } ” 

“ Yes, I dwell there with my mother,” said 
John, answering her in Greek, which she spoke 
with a slightly foreign accent. 

“ Wilt thoti deliver a letter for me to a noble 
lady of the city, named Placidia } and she will, 
doubtless, reward thee for thy trouble, for she 
hath long expected my arrival.” 


272 Quadratus. 

“ Placidia ! ” repeated John, taking the letter 
from her hand as he spoke, and looking at the 
woman still more curiously. “ From whom dost 
thou bring this letter ? ” he asked. 

“ From the Church of Damascus,” answered 
Imogene, trembling with anxiety lest he should 
refuse to take it. “ If thou wilt deliver it to one 
of the deacons of the Church he will place it 
in Placidia s hands”. 

John smiled. “ I can carry it to Placidia,” 
he said ; “ she dwelleth with my mother in the 
city.” 

“ Thou dost know my Placidia ! ” exclaimed 
Imogene, in a transport of delight ; “thou hast 
seen her, and knowest she is well ! ” 

“ Yes, she is well,” said the lad in a tone of 
astonishment, wondering not a little how this 
stranger could know Placidia. 

“ Thou wilt take the letter to her, then, and 
tell her Imogene, the Briton, hath journeyed 
hither from Tagaste.” 

“ Thou comest from Alypus of Tagaste,” said 
John quickly. 

Imogene bowed her head. “ Alypus is my 
master, and I have journeyed hither in his 
stead,” she said ; “ hasten with the letter 
to Placidia, and I will tarry here until she 
comes.” 


273 


The Meeting of Friends. 

“ Nay, nay ; but thou shalt come with me,” 
said John, and he escorted Imogene once more 
to the city gates. But at the outer wall they 
were met with a blank refusal from the guard, 
who looked angrily at Imogene for daring to 
present herself before him again. 

“ Nay, nay ; speak not so roughly,” said John. 
“ She is no beggar, but a true woman and a trusty 
slave, who hath been robb.3d on her journey 
hither.” 

“And what art thou, bold boy.^” asked the 
guard, with a half-amused, half-angry smile. 

“ I am plain John Chrysostom, the son of 
Arethusa, and a reader of the Church in Anti- 
och,’” replied the lad fearlessly. 

“Thou art John of the smooth tongue and 
bold speech,” retorted the man ; “but I cannot 
let the woman pass.” 

John turned away, looking greatly disap- 
pointed amid the laughter of the bystanders, 
who repeated the nickname: “John of the 
smooth tongue.” 

The city was famous for its bestowal of nick- 
names, and it was through this propensity of 
the Antiochians that the followers of Jesus 
were first called “Christians.” Another be- 
stowed by them a few years later on this young 
reader of the Church has come down to our 


2/4 Quadratus. 

own time, and Chrysostom is every-where 
known as the Golden-mouthed preacher,” or 
“John of the Golden mouth.” 

Of his future eminence and popularily, how- 
ever, the citizens knew nothing at present, and 
so it was amid a shower of laughs and jeers 
from those who were hurrying through the gates 
that he turned back with Imogene, assuring her 
that Placidia would come to her with all possible 
speed. 

He hastened home with the letter as quickly 
as possible, causing quite a commotion in the 
quiet household by his account of the crowd 
gathered round Imogene, and the refusal of the 
guard to allow her to pass the city gates. 

“ A messenger from my Alypus at last,” said 
Melissa, rousing herself from her habitual, in- 
dolent indifference as John spoke of this. 

“ Thou must fetch her home, my Placidia ; 
she needs rest and refreshment after her weary 
journey,” said the gentle widow, while Placidia 
was reading the letter and repeating the name, 
“ Imogene,” in a sort of unconscious wonder 
that highly exasperated John, who, in his im- 
patience, would have dragged her out of the 
house at once. 

“ Nay, nay, my son ; be not so impatient ; if 
this poor woman is so weary she will not be 


The Meeting of Friends. 275 

able to walk through the city, and Placidia had 
better fetch her home in the litter.” 

This suggestion was acted upon, and the 
palanquin at once ordered to be brought out ; 
while Placidia, in a maze of wondering surprise, 
prepared herself for the meeting with her old 
companion, for she doubted not but that it was 
the Imogene sold by old Deborah to the Em- 
press Helena. 

She alighted from her litter at the city gates, 
and walked forward alone to meet her old friend, 
wondering whether Imogene would recognize 
her in spite of the changes age had made in her 
appearance. There was little fear of her mis- 
taking the British slave, for the fair hair and 
blue eyes were not likely to alter very much, 
and John had spoken of them the moment he 
reached home. She was not prepared for the 
full and joyful recognition she received ; for, 
before she had reached the secluded spot to 
which John had directed her, Imogene came 
forward, and with a joyous cry of “ Placidia, my 
Placidia ! ” threw herself upon her bosom and 
burst into tears. 

“ Imogene, I never thought to meet thee on 
this side the river of death,” said Placidia as 
soon as she could speak, and then they em- 
braced again, until at last Placidia half led, half 


276 


Quadratus. 

carried poor Imogene to where she had left the 
slaves with her litter, for the poor woman was 
so weary from her long journey that the excite- 
ment of this meeting was almost too much for 
her feeble strength. 

As soon as they reached home her wants 
were tenderly and carefully supplied, and not 
until she had somewhat recovered would they 
allow her to talk even of Alypus or her journey. 

At length, however, Melissa was allowed to 
ask her as many questions as she liked about 
her son and grandson and their residence in 
Tagaste, and the following day Placidia and 
Imogene spent some hours together, talking 
over the events of the past thirty years, for 
each was anxious to know what had befallen 
the other. 

“ Thou didst not go to the far-off Britain, as 
the empress-mother intended,” said Placidia. 

“Yes, I went with the Roman legion that 
were about to depart for Verularn soon after we 
were parted at Jerusalem, but the centurion 
and his wife who had taken charge of me did 
not set me at liberty, as Helena commanded. 
She was not a hard mistress, however, and my 
life at the Roman colony was pleasant enough, 
for Verularn had changed since the first martyr 
of Britain, the citizen, Albanus, was put to death 


The Meeting of Friends. 277 

for confessing himself a Christian, and it is said 
that the name of the city is to be changed from 
Verulam to St. Alban’s, in honor of the mar- 
tyr. Hundreds in the town attend the Church 
that was erected upon the spot where he was 
slain, and lived and loved as brethren.” 

“ Even as we did in Alexandria until Arius 
began teaching his pestilent heresy,” said Pla- 
cidia with a sigh. 

“ Nay, but I heard as I journeyed hither that 
one had begun to teach error even in our far- 
off Britain. Pelagius, a minister of the Cymri, 
is teaching that men were not originally sinful 
and can attain perfection, and this hath caused 
much unhappiness and division, so that men who 
are learned, instead of teaching the ignorant — 
those who still hold in reverence the forest 
spirits or the old gods of Rome, as so many 
do — spend their time in disputing with each 
other.” 

Placidia sighed. One would think that dis- 
putation and not love was the fulfilling of the 
law.” 

^‘The love of many hath waxed cold,” said 
Imogene, *‘and the world would doubtless be 
the better for less doubtful doctrine and more 
Christian practice ; but the woe cometh through 
I hose why teach the perilous doctrine, and it 


2/8 Quadratus. 

behooveth all who love the Lord Christ in sin- 
cerity to withstand evil teachers as well as evil 
doers.” 

“ Thou speakest truly, Imogene ; but it seem- 
eth to me that little hath been accomplished 
even by councils in any matter of dispute. I 
have heard of several at which little was ac- 
complished beyond the mere talking of bishops 
and deacons.” 

“ But how is the Church catholic to be ruled 
and guided except by the voice of all her bish- 
ops assembled in council ! For one man — bishop, 
patriarch, or pope — to do this would be far worse 
than being ruled by councils. I have heard 
that the Bishop of Rome and the Patriarch of 
Constantinople are even now trying to gain 
that power each for himself, each seeking to 
be a lord over God’s heritage, instead of a shep- 
herd feeding his flock.” 

Placidia smiled. “ Rome and Constantinople 
are not all the world, they are only cities of one 
great empire, my Imogene; and though their 
bishops may think they are chiefs in the Church 
because they dwell in the mightiest cities, the 
rest can afford to smile at the mistake, for they 
know it is a mistake, and an assumption of pow- 
er they do not possess.” 

“ But if the empire should be divided again, 


The Meeting of Friends. 279 

as it was between the sons of Constantine, these 
rival cities and rival bishops may claim the pre- 
eminence, and what has been yielded by court- 
esy as a mere harmless assumption may be 
claimed as an absolute right, and the power 
thus gained may be used by and by.” 

But Placidia shook her head. “ These are 
not your own thoughts, Imogene,” she said with 
a smile. 

They were my husband’s, and I often heard 
him say that the pride of the bishops and their 
love of power would bring trouble upon the 
Church.” 

“ Then thou hast a husband in Tagaste ? ” 

“ Nay, my husband lies near the church of 
Verulam, in Britain. I have been a widow for 
many years.” 

“And thy husband, was he a slave.?” asked 
Placidia. 

“ Yes, but our marriage was blessed by the 
bishop,” said Imogene, with a touch of pride ; 
“ we were the first slaves in Britain to whom 
this honor was granted.” 

“It was "a rare occurrence at first, I know ; 
it hath grown more common of late. But tell 
me something of thy married life.” 

For a few moments the blue eyes were 
dimmed with tears, and Imogene could only 
18 


28o 


Quadratus. 


shake her head sorrowfully. My Publius and 
our babe both died in less than two years after 
our marriage, and for a time I rebelled and re- 
pined against the will of God ; but I learned aft- 
erward that it was in mercy they were taken 
home to the Master’s house above, for Publius 
belonged to another family, and when the legion 
to which my master belonged was ordered to 
return to Rome I was taken with them, and so 
God, having taken my treasures into his own 
keeping, I was saved the more bitter pain of 
leaving them in Verulam.” 

“And so thou wast taken to Rome once 
more,” said Placidia, tenderly smoothing the 
bands of fair hair that had lost the bright luster 
she had thought so beautiful. 

“Yes, I stood up again in that horrible slave 
market and was bought by a merchant and 
taken to Tagaste. That was nearly ten years 
since, but they have been peaceful, profitable 
years, for Alypus is not a hard master, and 
to teach his son, my Adeodatus, the truth's 
I learned from thy lips hath been a pleasant 
task.” 

“ And does the Church of Tagaste still flour- 
ish ? ” asked Placidia. 

“Yes. I would that thou couldst come to 
Tagaste, thou wouldst love Monica, the wife of 


The Meeting of Fi'iends. 281 

Patricius Augustinus, one of the officers of the 
town,” said Imogene warmly. 

“ Thou dost love her I can see, my Imogene,” 
replied Placidia. 

“Yes, if all Christian women were like Mo- 
nica the world would be the better and the hap- 
pier, for they would teach by their example, even 
as she doth, and the hardest hearts would be 
turned from evil, even as her husband’s hath of 
late.” 

“ Her husband is not a Christian, then.” 

“ Nay, he is a worshiper of the old Egyptian 
gods. Iris and Horus. Their son is the friend 
of my Adeodatus, and though I sometimes fear 
he will teach him much evil, I cannot tell Mo- 
nica I deem the young Augustine a bad com- 
panion, for I know her heart is set upon see- 
ing him converted to God, and that she is glad 
to see her son with Adeodatus as much as 
possible.” 

“ Then this young Augustine will be much 
with thy charge while thou art absent,” said 
Placidia. 

“Too much, I greatly fear, and so thou 
wilt not deem me anxious to leave thee, my 
Placidia, if I hasten from Antioch as soon as 
I can.” 

“ Nay, I would not detain thee an hour from 


282 Quadratus. 

thy duty, but thou must stay and rest a few 
days, and we will send thee by ship back to 
Egypt, It may be I shall see thy friend Monica, 
for my sister is too feeble to journey so far 
now, and if she deem it wise to go to Alypus in 
the summer I will bring her on her way.” 

A few days afterward Arethusa and Placidia 
accompanied Imogene to Seleucia, the port of 
Antioch, about twenty miles distant, and here 
she embarked once more for a perilous voyage 
across the Mediterranean. 


Athanasius, 


283 


CHAPTER XXI. 

ATHANASIUS. 

B efore Imogene reached Tagaste mes- 
sengers had been dispatched from Antioch 
to all the cities of the Roman empire bearing 
the intelligence that the expedition against the 
Persians had proved a most disastrous one, and 
that Julian had been killed in making a retreat 
into Armenia. There was scarcely a decent ap- 
pearance of mourning anywhere for the emperor 
throughout his vast domain, for although he was 
gifted, learned, and the most active of the 
Cesars, he was the least successful in carrying 
out his plans, and so his rule had been a series 
of attempts and ignominious failures that earned 
him the contempt of his subjects, while his op- 
pressive edicts against the Christians, and his 
openly avowed determination to crush out their 
faith, caused his death to be rejoiced over by not 
a few. Alexandria celebrated the event by fetch- 
ing back her banished patriarch, Athanasius, 
and once more installing him in the episcopal 
chair with every mark of public honor and 
rejoicing. 


284 Quadratus. 

The priests of Serapis in vain threatened the 
city with the vengeance of the gods of Egypt, 
reminding them that Christianity was no longer 
the national religion. The crowds that flocked 
to the churches once more proved that it was 
the religion of the people now, whatever the 
State might profess and uphold ; and the Sera- 
pium, where ignorant priests went through their 
mummeries of sacrifice, and the museum, with 
its garden of plane trees, where philosophers 
had walked and taught since the days of Euclid 
and Ptolemy Philadelphus, were alike deserted, 
so eager was every one to hear who the succes- 
sor of Julian was likely to be, for he had left no 
children to succeed him, and whether Paganism 
or Christianity was to be the national faith de- 
pended upon the will of their future emperor. 

Alypus had just returned to his native city 
when this news came from Antioch, and he, 
with Quadratus, were among the most forward 
in welcoming the return of Athanasius. But 
for this Quadratus would have been on his way 
to Jerusalem, for he had grown weary of wait- 
ing inactive the return of Imogene, and had de- 
cided to go himself and search for his sisters ; 
but he agreed to defer his departure a short 
time longer now, as affairs were so unsettled in 
the city, and the death of Julian so far modified 


Athanasius. 


285 


his own plans that he decided to journey direct 
to Antioch in search of Melissa and Placidia, 
feeling sure that they would return thither as 
soon as the tidings of Julian’s death reached 
them. 

The suspense as to who the future emperor 
would be was not of long duration, for another 
messenger arrived from the frontier shortly aft- 
erward bringing the news that Jovian, one of 
the imperial guards, had been proclaimed by the 
army, and their choice had been confirmed by 
all the principal cities. 

Jovian was almost unknown except to Quad- 
ratus, and he was surprised that his former 
companion in arms had been chosen to wear 
the purple, for there was nothing very remark- 
able about him except his cool courage in 
fighting and his dispassionate moderation in 
debate. It was this, it seemed, that had saved 
the Roman arms from utter defeat, and he 
had succeeded in making better terms with 
the Persian monarch than was at first expected, 
which was all the soldiers who had proclaimed 
him emperor cared for. 

Not so the peaceable citizens of the towns 
and villages, who were being impoverished by 
the- heavy taxes levied by Julian to pay for the 
daily sacrifices in the pagan temples — herds of 


286 Quadratus. 

fat oxen and hundreds of the choicest and most 
expensive birds being slaughtered daily in honor 
of Iris and Serapis, Apollo and Venus, while the 
poor were left to starve, and the struggling 
traders almost ruined by the heavy imposts. 

To them the most important question was, 
whether Jovian would carry on the policy of 
Julian or return to that of the Christian em- 
perors. To Athanasius, now getting in years 
and worn down by trouble and persecution, it 
was as important as to the poorest fruit-seller 
who had only just paid for his own liberty out 
of the profits made by selling water-melons and 
pistachios, and so it was a great relief when his 
old friend Quadratus told him that Jovian had 
been a true and earnest Christian, with a strong 
dislike of the Arians, when they had served 
together in the wars of Constantine. 

This last intelligence was most gratifying to 
Athanasius, and he determined to journey to 
Antioch with all speed to meet and welcome 
the new emperor. Such an opportunity as this 
was not likely to be missed by Quadratus, who 
was so anxious about his sisters’ welfare, and so 
he prepared at once to leave Alexandria in the 
train of the patriarch, promising to return with 
Athanasius if possible, and bring Melissa and 
Placidia with him. 


Athanasius. 


287 


Alypiis greatly desired to go, too, but his wife 
and business together rendered it impossible, 
and so he had to content himself by sending a 
costly present to his mother and gifts to the 
friends with whom she had been staying. 

Meanwhile Antioch had begun to assume 
something of her former appearance. The 
death of Julian had been the signal for opening 
the prison doors to many Christians in Antioch, 
and as soon as the news came of Jovian’s elec- 
tion, and that he was a Christian, the churches 
were again opened and public thanksgiving 
services were held. 

None rejoiced more sincerely over the altered 
state of things than Arethusa and Placidia, al- 
though they had suffered but little themselves 
compared with many others during the late 
persecution, and none prepared with greater zest 
for the public rejoicings to he held in honor of 
the new emperor than the widow and John 
Chrysostom. 

Each time he returned home now it was with 
sorne fresh item of news concerning the move- 
ment of the troops toward Antioch, or of some 
new device being prepared for the adornment 
of the city at the coming festival, for Antioch 
was not a little proud of the honor of being the 
first city to welcome Jovian. 


288 


Quadratus. 


Placidia often listened incredulously to these 
items of gossip, or shook her head with a grave 
smile that was very provoking, John thought, 
and he declared that she cared for nothing and 
no one but prisoners, beggars, and lepers. 

“ But these poor people have few to care for 
them,” said Placidia, laughing outright at John’s 
vexation ; “ and then I cannot feel much inter- 
est in news that I do not believe.” 

Do not believe ! ” repeated John. 

“ Nay, I cannot believe thy last tidings — that 
the Patriarch of Alexandria is coming hither to 
welcome our new emperor,” said Placidia with a 
slightly heightened color. 

“ And wherefore not, my Placidia ? ” said John, 
who noticed the signs of agitation in her face. 
“ Is it that the great Athanasius would grudge 
the trouble of journeying so far ? ” 

Nay, the trouble would be little thought of 
if good could be done. But why should Atha- 
nasius journey so far ? ” 

“To join in the frolics of our citizens at the 
festival,” said John, with a roguish smile, and 
he was himself so amused at the idea of the 
grave, learned bishop disporting himself under 
the marble colonnades of their streets that he 
burst into a merry laugh, in which Placidia and 
his mother both joined. 


Athanasms. 


289 

“ Athanasius would not need to come to An- 
tioch to witness games and shows,” she said ; 
“ our Alexandria will, without doubt, indulge in 
a splendid festival — ” 

“ Or a riot,” interrupted John mischievously, 
for the great Egyptian city was gaining for it- 
self a rather unenviable notoriety in this partic- 
ular. “ But, Placidia,” continued the lad more 
seriously, “dost thou not think Athanasius 
would be very anxious to know whether our 
new emperor is an Arian or one of the true 
Catholic Church V 

“ Doubtless he* is extremely anxious about 
this,” admitted Placidia, “but still I c^innot 
thinly—” 

“Thou needest not to think, for it is sure 
and certain that our bishop with his clergy are 
going forth, by the road to Seleucia, to meet 
the great Egyptian patriarch,” said John tri- 
umphantly. 

“ Art thou sure of this, my son } ” asked 
Arethusa. 

“ So sure, my mother, that I am to walk with 
the readers of the Church in the procession.” 

To Placidia, who had not seen Athanasius 
for more than thirty years — not since the time 
when he, as a simple deacon of the Church of 
Alexandria, came to visit her aged mother, the 


290 Quadratus. 

news seemed too good to be true, and yet when 
she reflected upon the visit lately paid to them 
by Imogene nothing seemed impossible. My 
friends seem to have died and been buried for 
thirty years and then suddenly to have come to 
life,” she said with something of a smile. 

“Then, that is why my word is doubted!” 
said John with mock indignation. “Because 
Athanasius is thy friend he is not to be allowed 
to come to Antioch.” 

“ Nay, I said not so,” answered Placidia, “but 
it is passing strange that after thirty years of 
death-like silence one after the other of my old 
friends should reappear. Melissa came first ; 
then Victor, the prisoner, who was liberated on 
sacrificing to Apollo ; then Onias, the Jew, whom 
I saw so often with old Deborah ; then Imogene, 
whom I always thought of as in the far-off Brit- 
ain ; and now our patriarch, Athanasius. It is 
marvelous.” 

“ I wish Quadratus would reappear,” said 
Melissa fretfully. “ I must journey to Tagaste 
and see my Alypus this summer, and who is to 
go with me } ” 

“ I will, my sister,” said Placidia. “ I say not 
that I will stay with thee,” she added as she 
glanced fondly at Arethusa, with whom this 
matter had been previously talked over, “ but I 


Athanasms, 


291 

will certainly journey with thee to Tagaste and 
see thy Alypus.” 

Both sisters had questioned Imogene as to 
whether any tidings had reached Tagaste con- 
cerning their brother, but she had not heard 
the name of Quadratus. 

As John had said, a procession issued from 
the gates of Antioch to meet the patriarch of 
Alexandria, scarcely less splendid in its ap- 
pointments than the municipal one that went 
forth to meet the emperor, for, however plainly 
the bishops might live in the privacy of their 
own homes, they made a public display of 
wealth, quite unknown in the present day. 

The bishops and archdeacons rode on white 
mules, richly caparisoned in embroidered silk, 
all the harness chains being of gold, while their 
own dress blazed with jewels. Behind came 
the deacons and presbyters in their various 
robes, and then the readers and choristers of 
the different churches in the city, for Atha- 
nasius was looked upon as the true and loyal 
champion of the Church in all her struggles 
against the encroachments of the temporal 
power, and must be met with all honor. 

Placidia went with Arethusa to a friend’s 
house, from the windows of which they could 
see the procession on its return with the great 


292 


Quadratus. 


Egyptian patriarch, but Melissa declared she 
was unequal to the exertion, and so Quadratus 
passed the window where his sister stood quite, 
unrecognized, for Placidia’s whole thought was 
given to the gray-haired, somewhat diminutive, 
man, whose life had seen such strange vicissi- 
tudes, but whom all Antioch delighted to honor 
to-day. 

Athanasius saw little of the gaping crowd 
that lined the streets and shouted a welcome to 
him as he rode past on a mule with similar 
trappings to that of their own bishop, for his 
mind was full of what he had heard concerning 
the bitter persecution of the previous winter, 
and the wonderful meekness and patience of 
the Church of Antioch in abstaining from re- 
volt or riot, or resorting to any unlawful means 
of redressing their wrongs ; for they were not 
the feeble power in the State they once were, 
which made their submission to the unjust 
edicts of Julian all the more remarkable. 

Quadratus, on the other hand, was eagerly 
looking right and left in the hope of seeing one 
or both of his sisters, but it was difficult to rec- 
ognize any one in the motley throng, and so he 
passed on in the ecclesiastical train while Pla- 
cidia watched him from a window close by, for 
his bronzed, weather-beaten face had attracted 


Athanasius. 


293 

her attention, as well as his unclerical dress, but 
she had no idea that it was her brother. 

After the meeting of the bishops came the 
welcoming of the new emperor, and Quadratus 
found himself once more in the midst of old 
friends and companions in arms. 

Many of these seemed shy of meeting him at 
first, for they had only retained their position 
in the army by burning incense to the gods — 
a concession Quadratus indignantly refused to 
make, and retired from his post rather than do 
violence to his conscience. Many, however, 
thought it a slight matter to sprinkle a little 
fragrant powder on the sacred flame as they 
passed before Julian, and as this was all that 
was required of them they yielded, and so in a 
few hours the army became pagan and devoted 
to the service of the gods of the empire, accord- 
ing to the emperors belief. This same army 
had left Antioch as pagan but it returned from 
Persia Christian almost to a man, and one of 
the first acts of the new emperor was to restore 
the sacred ensign of the cross to its place of 
honor, and that Quadratus should be once more 
chosen as a guard of the labarum was not at 
all surprising to those who knew him. 

Athanasius rejoiced at the honor thus con- 
ferred upon his old friend, but he was still more 


294 


Quadratus. 


pleased to find the emperor so devoted to the 
Church, and so ready to uphold the famous 
Nicene Creed, which he looked upon as the 
great bulwark of religious truth, and to uphold 
which he had braved the anger of emperors, 
and risked both life and liberty. 

Having secured the emperor’s promise to up- 
hold this against the Arians of the empire, 
Athanasius prepared to return to Alexandria, 
but Quadratus preferred to remain at Antioch 
a little longer, for he had not found his sisters 
yet, and he was determined not to return with- 
out them. 


Conclusion. 


295 


CHAPTER XXIL 

CONCLUSION. 

T he Christian schools of Antioch were 
soon re-opened, and the Scripture read- 
ings in the chamber of the church resumed. 
The church itself had been stripped of most of 
the gold and jewels that had adorned its walls 
and pillars, but the marble Christ still occupied 
its place above the altar ; and the sacred em- 
blems of the dove, the fish, the ship, and the 
cross within the circle, and the shepherd with 
his flock being painted in fresco along the sides, 
could not be removed when the church was 
ransacked of its treasures, and remained almost 
uninjured. 

John Chrysostom was on his way to the 
reader’s chamber once more, when, as he was 
passing through the church, he was surprised 
to see Athanasius standing near the altar at 
the upper end looking intently at the statue 
above. Seeing the lad, however, he came to- 
ward him, and John bowed in lowly reverence 
as he stood aside for him to pass. But instead 
of passing, Athanasius stood still before him. 

19 


296 Quadratus. 

“ Thou art one of the readers,” said the patri- 
arch ; “dost thou know John Chrysostom ?” 

Pride and pleasure brought a quick glow to 
John’s face at his name being known by the 
good bishop, and he said, with another inclina- 
tion of the head, “I am John Chrysostom ; can 
I do aught to serve thy holiness ?” 

“ Dost thou know one Placidia ? She is an 
aged woman now, and hath dwelt some years 
in Antioch, I ween.” 

“ Is she a native of Alexandria ? ” asked John 
quickly, thinking how delighted Placidia would 
be when she heard that Athanasius had in- 
quired for her. 

“Yes ; she was stolen from Alexandria many 
years since,” replied the patriarch. 

“ Then it is our Placidia,” said John, scarcely 
able to repress his delight ; “ God sent her to 
Antioch to be my mother’s nurse and teacher, 
and mine, too.” 

“ May God abundantly bless her work, and 
bless thee, my son ! ” said Athanasius ; and he laid 
his hands upon the lad’s bowed head, and lifting 
his eyes to heaven prayed fervently that an 
abundant blessing might be poured out upon 
him. 

“ I wished to become a monk,” John ventured 
to say when he again raised his head, “ but my 


Conclusioji. 


297 


rrn)ther says I had better be a Christian-lawyer, 
for they are more needed in these evil days.” 

“ Thou knowest who hath said, ‘ Children, 
obey thy parents,’” said Athanasius; “do this, 
my son, and teach by example as well as by 
thy readings, and thou shalt become a blessing 
to the world and a pillar of the Church. Now 
wilt thou tell me where I shall find Placidia } ” 

“ I — I will lead thee to her,” said John. 

“ Nay, nay, my son ; but what will these do 
who are waiting for thee to read to them the 
words of life ? Thou shalt tell me which way 
I shall go, and where thy home is, and doubt- 
less I can understand,” said Athanasius,^ with a 
slight smile. 

John directed him which road to take through 
the city to the banks of the Orontes ; but all 
the time he was reading from the parchment 
roll to the little crowd gathered to hear the 
sacred Word his thoughts would wander to- 
ward his home, and he wondered whether the 
patriarch would go alone to pay this visit. 

It was a relief to him to-day when his time 
for reading had expired, and he hurried through 
the streets at a pace which made people look 
after him in some surprise, for the sun was get- 
ting high in the heavens now, and the heat 
made any exertion unwelcome. But John hardly 


298 Quadratus. 

paused to choose the shadiest spots to-day, but 
rushed on, sometimes in the shadows of the col- 
onnade, sometimes in the road, whichsoever hap- 
pened to be least crowded, and at length rushed 
into the cool inner court at home, hot and 
breathless. 

“ Is Placidia at home ? Hath his holiness 
from Alexandria been here yet ? ” 

Arethusa looked at her son with a smile. 
“ Placidia will laugh at thee again,” she said, 
“ for thy wonderful news.” 

“ But it is true, my mother. Athanasius was 
in the church this morning and asked me for 
news concerning Placidia, and will certainly 
come to visit her.” 

“ Did he not inquire for me ^ ” asked Melissa, 
who was lying on a pile of cushions near the 
fountain. 

“ Nay, he asked only for Placidia,” replied 
John. “ He had heard my name, mother, for 
he asked if I knew John Chrysostom,” he added, 
turning toward Arethusa. 

“ And he is coming here, thou sayest. It 
may be my Alypus hath desired him to seek 
me out,” said Melissa, with a sigh. 

Placidia was out visiting the prisoners, and 
it was with some impatience John awaited her 
return to impart his wonderful news. It was 


Conclusion. 


299 


scarcely told before a slave entered, say- 
ing a soldier was in the vestibule asking for 
Placidia. 

“A soldier!” exclaimed John, in a tone of 
disappointment, as Placidia smilingly shook her 
head at him as she went out with the slave. 

In a few minutes, however, she returned, 
looking greatly agitated, and going to Melissa’s 
side she said, The labarum is to be the im- 
perial ensign once more, Melissa, and the guards 
are in Antioch.” 

“ The guards of the labarum I” repeated Me- 
lissa, excitedly raising herself on her cushions. 
“ Then Quadratus is here.” 

“ Yes, Quadratus is here,” said another voice 
at her side, and the war-worn, weather-beaten 
face of her brother was bent over her, and for a 
few minutes no one could speak for the full tide 
of joy that rushed in upon their hearts at this 
happy reunion. 

A little later Athanasius paid a visit to the 
long-separated brother and sisters, to the great de- 
light of John, although the proposal he made was 
by no means so agreeable to either him or Are- 
thusa. She urged its adoption, however, regard- 
less of the sorrow it would cause her to part 
with Placidia, for Athanasius had proposed that 
the sisters should return to Alexandria in the 


300 Quadratus. 

train of Quadratus. This plan would obviate 
many of the difficulties they would have expe- 
rienced in traveling alone ; and, indeed, the 
only mode of doing this in safety was for a large 
number to form themselves into one company, 
so that in the event of an attack by robbers 
they might, with their slaves, form a sufficient 
force to withstand them. 

So it was arranged that Placidia should leave 
Antioch for a few months ; but she promised to 
return before winter, for the thought of leaving 
Arethusa, whom she loved so dearly, was very 
bitter, while to the widow herself it was like a 
second widowhood to be thus separated from 
her foster-mother and dearest friend. 

Quadratus found it hard to believe that the sun 
ny-hearted, elderly woman, whose active love and 
service was* known all over Antioch, could have 
been the cold, stately Placidia, to whom he ap- 
pealed in vain on behalf of their dear mother. 
Truly God’s ways were wonderful, and his meth- 
ods of educating and guiding the human soul 
beyond man’s understanding ; for while Melissa 
had been cradled in luxury and had scarcely a 
wish ungratified, Placidia’s days had been passed 
in the lowly service of a slave, and yet she was 
now by far the happier of the two sisters, for 
Melissa had grown peevish and fretful in the 


CoitcliLsion. 


301 


midst of her self-indulgence, and was now a far 
less happy woman than her active, self-forgetful 
sister. 

Meanwhile Imogene had reached Tagaste in 
safety, where she found Adeodatus awaiting her 
arrival in the household of Monica. She was 
welcomed as warmly here as if she were Are- 
thusa herself ; and the story of her journey and 
its dangers was listened to with as much interest 
as though she had been the greatest lady in 
Tagaste. Even Patricius exerted himself for 
her convenience, and bade her stay until she 
had thoroughly recovered from the fatigue of 
her journey before proceeding on her way to 
Alexandria. 

But Imogene was anxious to see Alypus and 
tell him the result of her journey, and likewise 
to remove Adeodatus as soon as possible from 
the society of Augustine, for the two boys were 
more intimate than ever now, and Adeodatus 
had learned several bad habits from his com- 
panion, and, what was worse, did not seem to 
suffer from any upbraidings of conscience as 
Augustine did. This at present was the only 
answer his mother received to her prayers — he 
could not be happy in his sin ; but whether he 
would ever learn to hate it and turn from it as 
a grievous and horrible thing, Monica did not 


302 


Quadratus. 


know. But she prayed on in faith and hope, 
and we know that her prayers were not in vain, 
and that Augustine, like Chrysostom, became 
a “burning and a shining light” in the midst 
of a crooked and perverse generation. Widely 
different was the character of their boyhood, 
but they were alike in this, they each had the 
inestimable blessing of a pious mother, and 
so to Monica andArethusa their quiet, unrec- 
ognized, undemonstrative piety, may be traced 
blessings the full measure of which can never 
be known. 

At the time of which we write, however, it 
seemed far more likely that the young Augus- 
tine would prove a curse to those with whom 
he formed any close friendship, and so it was 
not wonderful that Imogene, in her watchful 
care of Adeodatus, should wish to take him 
away from Tagaste as soon as possible. But 
she heard, to her dismay, that Augustine would 
accompany them to Alexandria, for Patricius 
had promised that he and Monica would both 
visit Alypus this summer, and, of course, their 
only son would go with them. 

So Imogene was obliged to take refuge in 
prayer, as well as Monica, that God would 
shield her darling from the evil of the world, 
and her prayer was answered, but not as she 


Conclusion. 


303 


expected. As soon as they had landed on 
the quay at Alexandria they were met by the 
news that the plague had broken out in the 
city. 

Patricius would have taken his wife and son 
back at once if he could, but this was impossi- 
ble, and so he went through the half-deserted 
streets fearing each moment that the pesti- 
lence would seize upon him. Alypus, however, 
laughed at his fears, assured him that it was 
only in the poor quarter of the city that sick- 
ness was rife, and took him up to the tower that 
he might see how well situated the house was 
for the sea-breezes to bear away all malaria or 
infection that might lurk in the air of the city. 
But, as if to prove the utter fallacy of all these 
assurances, the household was aroused that 
night with the tidings that Adeodatus had been 
seized with the plague, and before morning his 
life was despaired of 

Parthenia, who had never been a very fond 
mother, and had somewhat neglected her only 
son, was inconsolable now, and was with diffi- 
culty kept from disturbing her child, who lay 
quiet and peaceful in Imogene’s arms, but could 
not bear to be separated from her. “Tell me 
about the blood of Christ taking away all sin,” 
he panted between the spasms of pain, and then 


304 OUADRATUS. 

he added, “ I have been a naughty boy at Ta- 
gaste, Imogene, and there is not time to cleanse 
my soiled baptismal robes by penance now, 
but the blood of Christ will cleanse us from all 
sin. I know it now, Imogene ; I feel it here,” 
and he laid his hand upon his breast. 

“Yes, his blood is sufficient,” said Imogene 
through her tears. 

“ Yes, for all sins — all sins^' said the boy, 
faintly, and then he asked with sudden earnest- 
ness, “ Whv do we have to perform penance 
when the blood of Christ is sufficient? It 
makes us think it is not enough.” 

But Imogene could only shake her head. 
She was not wise enough to understand the 
reason of every thing, and she could not say 
much, for her heart was overcome with the 
thought of parting with her charge in the very 
moment of their reunion, for she knew now that 
in a few hours Adeodatus would be beyond the 
reach of either sin or suffering — a blessed 
change for him, but making the world again 
dark and lonely to her. 

Monica did all she could to soothe the grief 
of Parthenia, and she hoped the sudden death 
of Adeodatus would be blest to her son, warn- 
ing him that he, too, might be called, and after a 
few hours’ sickness be laid in the grave, and for 


Conclusion. 


305 

a few weeks Augustine did seem somewhat 
seriously impressed. 

Their stay at Alexandria was prolonged much 
beyond what they at first intended, but Monica 
was not sorry, for Parthenia clung to her more 
than ever now, so that she could be of some 
service to her friend, and then she likewise had 
a great desire to see and hear Athanasius, about 
whom she had heard so much, but who was 
absent on his visit to Antioch when they ar- 
rived. But his return was expected almost 
daily, and when he did arrive there was a double 
pleasure in store for Monica, for she and Pla- 
cidia could not fail to be warm friends, and often 
spent hours in each other’s company or with 
Imogene, for since the death of Adeodatus his 
nurse had found herself almost without occupa- 
tion. That Arethusa and John should often be 
the subject of conversation was only natural, 
and Augustine asked numerous questions about 
the young reader of Antioch who was destined 
to be as widely known as the future bishop of 
Hippo. 

Monica could sympathize with Placidia’s de- 
sire to return to Antioch very soon, for she 
could understand her love for Arethusa as well 
as the widow’s love to Placidia; for she, too, 
owed it to the teaching of a faithful slave in her 


3o6 


Quadratus. 


father’s household that she was now rejoicing in 
the hope of eternal life, but she thought it was 
unwise to continue in a state of bondage, as 
Placidia had, and she quite approved of Quad- 
ratus’ plan for liberating his sister and provid- 
ing for her so far that she should be above want, 
even if Arethusa was taken away. 

He was well able to do this for he was a 
wealthy man, and Melissa would be taken care 
of by Alypus in the future, for Parthenia seemed 
much less exacting toward every body since the 
death of her son, and so they were likely to live 
much more happily together. Finding that 
Quadratus was determined that she should share 
at least some portion of his wealth, Placidia ar- 
ranged with Alypus for the redemption of Imo- 
gene that she might return to her native land. 
But Imogene shook her head sadly when this 
proposal was made to her. “ I have no one in 
Britain who would care to welcome the worn- 
out British slave. What is freedom to me now 
when all my life hath been spent in captivity ? ” 

“ Then thou shalt come with me to Antioch,” 
said Placidia. “ I care not for liberty for my- 
self, for I have been free for years except as 
love held me in chains ; but for my brother’s 
sake I must have my own dwelling now at An- 
tioch, and thou shalt rule over it, Imogene, for 


Conclusion. 


307 

I shall scarcely live less with my Arethusa be- 
cause I am no longer her slave.” 

Quadratus could not stay long at Alexandria, 
for he had to proceed to Constantinople to meet 
the emperor, but before he went all the neces- 
sary arrangements were made concerning Pla- 
cidia, and she and Imogene were placed under 
the protection of a party of travelers journeying 
to Antioch. Melissa was sorry to part with her 
sister, but as she and Parthenia were likely to 
live more happily together she* did not grieve 
very deeply, for there were several things in 
which she and Placidia could not see eye to eye, 
especially in the adoration of the Virgin Mary, 
represented by the old statues of Venus, which 
Placidia had plainly spoken of as another form 
of idolatry. 

Monica returned to Tagaste about the same 
time, and thus, after the wonderful reunion of 
friends that had taken place after this long sep- 
aration, all returned to their own individual 
paths of duty, in the quiet performance of which 
they had found that happiness God alone could 
give, and the result of which was to be so far- 
reaching in its influence that it has not yet 
ceased, and will continue as long as the names 
of Chrysostom and Augustine are known and 
revered in the Church of Christ. 


3o8 Quadratus. 

May the lessons taught by the unobtrusive 
lives of these women be pondered by many in 
these days of bustle and loud profession, and 
may we all learn from these lessons of the past 
to live more closely to Christ, to drink in more 
of his spirit of simplicity and love, and there will 
be little danger of following the teachings of 
man or of falling into errors of either doctrine 
or practice ! This was the cause of much, nay, 
of all the evil that crept into the early Church, 
and Churches are but individuals in the aggre- 
gate, for worldliness and evil would not be pos- 
sible in a Church the individual members of 
which were simple, pure, and honest in all their 
dealings. 

With the prayer that this volume may be 
blessed of God and made useful to many, I 
leave “ Quadratus ” to my readers. 


THE END. 


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